Demands
by sentbyfools
Summary: Emma has a need that only Hook can satisfy. (Be sure to read the notes before proceeding).
1. demands

**title: **demands

**summary: **_"if that's what you demand, then that's what i'll deliver; if that's what you demand, then that's just what i'll give you"_ - Emma has a need that only Hook can satisfy.

**notes/warning: **smut, smut, _smut._ light bloodplay/knifeplay (in the form of a hook) and just idk, dark!fic maybe? this is first time fic, and also this is the filthiest thing i've ever written.

* * *

She twists her wrists within the confines of the black scarf holding them together so that her right wrist is crossed over her left. Her hands are balled into fists, her nails digging crescent shaped marks into her palms that she knows will probably remain long after she has been released.

She closes her eyes, exhales deeply, and then opens them again to take in the sight of her raised and parted knees, the bare skin of her thighs, the fading scar on her abdomen trailing down to the neatly trimmed patch of dirty blonde curls. It's cold in the room, but the hardened peaks of her nipples have nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the man sitting in a chair by the end of the bed and the way he looks at her, calm and calculating, not a hint of anything but raw _want_ in his eyes.

He wants this, but she's the one that needs it.

She's the one that brought it up. She's the one that came onto his ship, entered his cabin without knocking, holding out the black scarf and said, "Tie me up."

His eyes had trailed over her face, much like they were doing now. He hadn't mentioned that it was the same scarf that he'd used to bandage her hand, but the recognition was there in his eyes. He hadn't asked any questions, no what, no whys, just a careful stretching of his neck as he said, "Strip."

She'd done just that, no arguments. That's why she'd gone to him, what she'd come here for. Ever since they'd rescued Henry and come back to Storybrooke to try and figure out what to do next and where to take their lives, she'd had this itch under her skin, and she knew he'd be the only one to satisfy it. Everything felt so cloying, even her choices didn't feel like hers at all, and even her happiness of finally being with her family of having Henry - and Neal - safe and alive could only tamp down the need for so long. She was being pulled every which way and -

She needs this. She needs this release.

So, she let him tie her wrists together, and when he'd gone to remove his hook, she'd stopped him, said, "Keep it on."

She shudders when he finally stands, the heavy breath wracking through her body. She needs to be touched so desperately.

He walks over to the edge of the bed, sitting down right beside her raised knees. If she spread her legs a little wider, she could almost touch him...but she doesn't do that because that's not what she wants. It's not what she needs.

What she needs is for him to take control, what she needs is to let go.

He is shirtless, was already when she walked in. Emma's eyes are drawn to the leather straps holding his hook to his arm and the way his abs move as he twists on the bed and reaches out his hook to brush against her skin. She shuts her eyes against the touch of the cool metal on the curve of her knee. The simple contact is enough to make her hairs stand on end. She shifts, trying to close her knees together, to ease the gentle pulsing already starting to build low in her belly. His hook presses against her other knee, dangerously close to breaking the skin. The sharp prick of the tip of his hook drives Emma's eyes wide open. She meets his gaze.

"Don't move," he says.

Emma obeys as he trails the tip down the inside of her thigh. She could disobey, but that would run the risk of him drawing blood, the pressure of the metal point already marking a red line on her skin.

"Breathe, Emma," he says and she realizes that she is drawing in breaths like she has been drowning and only just made it to the surface before all the air escaped her lungs. She tries to relax her breathing, but his hook has made its way into the territory where every touch makes her feel taut, a building spark just waiting to explode.

The hook barely brushes her cunt, just enough to move the curly hairs and make her arch her back, opening and closing her fists. He repeats the motion, this time pressing down hard enough to make gentle contact with her folds and the hood of her clit. And then he does it again, this time spreading her folds with the curve of the hook. He drives the curve against her clit, rubbing in circles, spreading her growing wetness over her clit.

She has to fight herself to keep from clamping her legs together. As it is, her knees tremble with the effort and she feels frustration simmer within her when he pulls away, drawing the hook back to him. The frustration grows when he presses the hook to his lips, kissing the tip before licking her wetness off the steel. He closes his eyes as his tongue slides over the metal, the sides of his mouth curved upward in enjoyment.

He opens his eyes and fixes her with a look that actually does make her close her legs this time, hips arching off the bed as she tries to soothe the ache between her legs. She fights the bonds around her wrists. She needs to touch, needs release, and she is going to go insane if she doesn't have it.

"Hook!" she shouts, whines, _pleads._

His only response is to shove his hand between her knees, prying them apart and shift on the bed so that he has better access to her.

"I said 'Don't move,'" he growls, words as sharp as the hook he trails between the dip in her breasts.

She shivers as he circles her nipple with the tip. Her nipples ache with the need to be touched. She bites her lip to keep quiet, but sounds still escape her as he presses down on her breast with the tip, the sharp sting doing everything in its power to make her lose that last bit of tenuous control.

She could just give in; that is what she came here to do: to give in, to give it all until there's nothing left. But Emma has always been one to fight even when it would be easier to surrender.

And there's a big part of Emma that wants to see just how far he'll go.

"Hook!" she cries as he pulls the hook under the curve of her breast. He looks up at her even as he continues his motion. Emma sucks in a breath, holding it and moments later, she lets it out, a sharp gasp.

He has pierced the skin.

Just beneath the right breast, he has carved a line into her skin. At first it just feels warm, and then the pain blooms. She looks down. She can't see the cut, but she can see the thin line of blood leaking down her stomach. Hook moves over her, angling his head towards that line, and _licks. _She tenses because if she moves, she'll surely ignite. It feels like all the nerves in her body are centered right there where his wet tongue is meeting skin.

When his tongue actually touches the cut, she digs her nails so hard into her palms that she draws blood, but that pain is nothing to compare to the feeling of him tracing the cut with his tongue, the way the muscles stretch in his neck as he moves over her, and the look in his eyes as he pulls away.

This is exactly - _exactly_ what she needed. She wants to scream with the satisfaction. She doesn't do that however, just says, "Hook," again, a different kind of whine this time, less mindless, more controlled. She still feels desperate, but the desperation is more focused.

He settles down on the bed beside her, just watching for a long, long time until Emma starts fidgeting with her bonds again and he finally breaks the silence, says, "Turn over. Hands and knees."

_Fuck. He's going to - __**fuck**__._

She flips over, tries to get onto her hands but the scarf around her wrists makes it impossible. She somehow manages to balance on her elbows, but the position is precarious. She could fall flat on her face at any moment, and she isn't sure that isn't exactly what he wants, her face pressed into the mattress while he fucks into her from behind. She shifts, digging her nails into her palms again. Maybe that's exactly what _she _wants.

She waits for a long time as she listens to him remove the last of his clothing. He moves on the bed behind her and then his hook is pressing against the small of her back as he lines himself up against her entrance. She focuses on the feeling of steel on her back and how soaking wet her cunt is, fluids leaking onto the sheets beneath her.

The head of his cock presses against her opening and he pushes in so slowly that Emma swallows against the moan that threatens to leave her mouth. Finally he has just the head inside and he stays there like that, the steel still on her back.

Emma pushes her hips back, trying to urge him on, but it only makes him pull away. She twists her head backwards to look at him and he has moved so that their faces are inches apart when he says, "You _will_ move when I tell you to. You're not the one in control here, Swan. I'm going to fuck you at whatever pace I like and you're going to take it, and if you don't like that I'll untie you and you can get dressed and leave."

His eyes are stormy as he says, "Do you want to leave?"

She shakes her head. "No, no."

He surges forward, kissing her hard and brutal. Her lips feel bruised when he pulls away and her head is spinning so wildly that she barely hears it when he murmurs, "Good girl."

She does feel it though when he pushes the head of his cock inside her cunt again, this time thrusting in without any buildup, hitting bottom and driving the air from her lungs in one quick movement. Her walls stretch around him before squeezing tightly. It has been a long time since she has done this. Despite how wet she is, it burns as her body tries to adjust to his size. She whines when he pulls out before her body has fully adjusted. He pushes back in, slowly, lazily until he is buried just as deep as before.

His balls slap against her ass as he keeps to that pace, pulling out quickly and pushing in slowly. It's agonizing, her clit throbs with the lack of attention, but he doesn't seem to care. He just takes what he wants from her, leaving her on the edge with every movement. Her arms shake as she tries to hold herself up, her wrists burn from the way she keeps twisting them, and her cunt _aches._

"Hook!" she says, practically in tears.

His next thrust makes her fall over, her face hitting the mattress hard. He's so deep that she can't breathe, all she knows is the feeling of his cock inside her.

"That's not my name, sweetheart," he says, rocking back and then forward again, changing the pace. His other hand drags around her thighs, pulling her closer.

"Your cunt is so tight, so hot and wet, it's like fucking an inferno," he hisses, his hand moving to her cunt and tugging at her clit, twisting it roughly.

Emma lets out a cry that reverberates off the walls of his cabin. It's too much - and he's _still_ fucking her, his hips smacking against her as he rocks in and out, short thrusts that burn so good, a mix of pain, pleasure, and everything in between - and it's _too much._

She sobs when he pinches her clit again before rubbing it with the rough pad of his thumb. She tears at her hands, crushed beneath her breasts and manages to finger the thin cut he left with his hook, reopening the wound. She feels the blood flow over her fingers and wants to mark him like he has marked her but she can't so she cries and trembles as she holds herself back from meeting his thrusts. She can't do anything except take it and she screams as her orgasm hits her.

Everything whites out, she knows nothing except the pleasure and indescribable pain.

When she finally comes back down to earth, he's still fucking her with his fingers still stroking her clit, and the aftershocks course through her, pushing her towards the edge yet again. It's raw and uninhibited when she comes for the second time. He follows right after her, pulling out and spilling his seed over the lips of her cunt, her ass, her back.

She shakes, tries to remain on her knees, but she can't. She falls onto the bed as his release drips down her skin.

"Emma," she hears him say. She opens her eyes to see him crouching over her, wide-eyed worry in his eyes. She must've been out of it for a little while because she never even felt him move.

"Emma, love," he says and flips her over so that she's laying on her back.

She tries to speak but her throat feels dry and nothing comes out. She swallows as he goes about untying her wrists. He keeps glancing at her, the worry still in his eyes. When her wrists are finally free, he rubs his fingers over the skin, forcing blood back into the abused limbs. It stings, pins and needles and she hisses.

"Emma?" he says, releasing her hands and bringing his hands to her face. "Are you okay?"

She stares at him, leans into his touch, and finally manages to say, "Yes."

Something seems to relax in him, the tension leaves his form, and he smiles at her, small like he is sharing a secret.

"Good," he says softly. "I -"

He looks at her, mouth opening and shutting, at a loss for words. Emma brings one of her sore hands to his chest, running her fingers through the thick, dark hair. Everything is starting to come back to her, reality crashing down around her. She is still stuck with no idea what to do. She still has to face what comes next, and she just fucked Captain Hook.

"Thank you, Killian" she says because despite everything, despite _reality_, that's what she feels - so grateful for the way he'd taken her trust and hadn't thrown it back in her face. He'd given her everything she needed without question, and god, she was so _grateful_.

"You're welcome, Emma," he says.

Spent, sated, and impossibly content, Emma falls back against the bed, closes her eyes, and sleeps.


	2. crash, crash, burn

**title: **crash, crash, burn

**summary: **sequel to demands. Emma needs more of what Hook can give. He is only happy to help.

**notes; **spanking fic, ahoy!

* * *

Hook's hand brushes her backside. It is a soft caress, a marked tenderness that Emma does not want. She fidgets as he does it again, feeling the need grow. This time there are no bonds, nothing to stop her from doing what she wants.

Nothing except herself.

She lets out a shaky breath, feeling the pressure rise as she tries to focus on not breaking the rules. He only had one, "Don't move unless I give you permission." Only one rule, it should be easy, but she feels on edge, her teeth grit together as she forces herself to ignore the itch, and her heart is pounding in her chest from the effort.

She gasps when his finger traces down the cleft of her ass, slipping between her cheeks. He doesn't quite touch the line of hidden skin there, finger just a hair's breadth away. He follows the line all the way down and then pulls away just before his finger reaches her cunt.

She doesn't move, but god does she want to.

The heavy blindfold wrapped around her eyes blocks out the light of his cabin, and because she can't see a thing she focuses on what she is feeling instead. The bed is soft yet firm beneath her hands and her knees. The air is cold. Her nipples are hard, and they ache to be touched.

The first hit lands on the curve of her ass. She cries out. The force of the hit makes her slide forward slightly on the bed. She grips her hands in the sheets, hoping that the tiny movement doesn't count against her. She doesn't want him to punish her; she doesn't want him to stop.

She is tense as she waits for the next hit. She can't see where he is, how close, how far. She didn't hear him move the first time and no matter how hard she strains, she can't hear whether he is moving or not. All she can hear is her heavy breathing. She takes in a deep breath, counts the seconds - one, two, three, four - before she releases the breath.

Her body relaxes.

And then the next hit lands.

She tenses again. She wants to move, wants to do anything to stop the burning in her skin, already building after the two sharp smacks of his hand.

The next three hits land in a quick succession. Emma grinds her teeth, but still tiny gasps escape her. Her hands are tight fists wrapped around the sheets.

"Beautiful," Hook says, his voice rough. She doesn't know what he is seeing, whether her ass is already red from the hits, whether he has noticed the way her muscles have bunched up, how she trembles with the tension.

Heat rises inside her and she imagines that it is a palpable thing, smoke curling off her skin as she starts to ignite. She lets everything go, focuses on that feeling, and her body relaxes along with her mind.

The next smack of his hand against her ass doesn't make her tense this time. Instead she falls into it, letting the burning sensation wash over her. She is in a different space now, she feels like she is floating above and away from the room they're in, moving out of her skin with every touch of his hand.

He hits her again, and the her skin burns white hot where he has touched her. It isn't the only place that burns. Her cunt is dripping wet, soaked from her arousal. Her clit aches, throbbing with need. She has never gotten off from just spanking before, but the wave of pleasure is cresting inside her.

He hits her again, twice. The hits do more than catch her off guard. They send her spiraling over the edge, the wave reaching its highest peak before crashing to shore. She sees lights. She sees stars. She feels nothing and everything all at once. She cries out Hook's name.

She shivers when she comes back to herself and tastes salt on her lips. She is crying, the tears sliding down past the blindfold, but she can't move to do anything about it. It isn't from the pain, and it isn't from the pleasure; it's from the heady mixture of both those feelings that she cries.

The bed dips beside her and then his hand is on her face. He gently pushes the blindfold up her face and swipes at the tears falling down her cheeks. She stares at his blurry face as the fog slowly disappears and he becomes clear.

"You can move now," he says.

The first thing Emma notices is that her ass burns all over; he hadn't left any spot untouched. _No stone unturned_. A tiny grin breaks across her face. She feels like herself again. Hook is still sitting on the side of the bed so she crawls over to him, hissing as the aching muscles get used to moving again.

It burns when she straddles him and seats herself in his lap. She lets out a small gasp that she tries to quiet, but his eyes widen and he runs his fingers through her hair as he says. "Do you really want to continue this, love?"

She doesn't want to talk so she answers his question with actions instead. She presses a finger to his lips to quiet him, quickly replacing that finger with her mouth. She kisses him until the sensation is too much to take, and then she kisses him some more. Her hands move around his waist, cradling him to her.

Slowly, she slides her hands down lower and squeezes the firm cheeks of his ass. Hook laughs, a sound that makes her think _Killian_ instead of Captain Hook. She pulls her hands away, goes for his belt, and in moments, she has it open. He gets the picture quickly, pulls his hand away from where it was cradling her face, and lifts her up so she can pull his pants down past his waist. He goes to push them down farther, but Emma stops him, grabs his hand before he can do so and pushes down so they're reseated on the bed, his erection pressing against her.

He breaks their kiss to raise an eyebrow at her in question. Emma smiles. "I want you to keep them on."

A wicked smirk curves his lips. His warm breath curls around her skin, much like the heat she'd felt earlier when his hand had been on her ass. "Bondage, spanking, and now this," he murmurs. He pulls her closer to him with his prosthetic hand so her bare breasts are flush against his covered chest. The feeling of his silk shirt against her hardened nipples makes her moan. "Emma, Emma, Emma," he says. "You are a woman of many secrets."

He pauses for a moment only long enough for Emma to catch her breath. She fists his shirt in her hands.

"So, I'm going to strip you bare."

He brings his other hand down lower to lightly smack the curve of her ass. Emma closes her eyes as the burning sensation flares up again. He moves against her, just a tiny thrust of his hips. His mouth trails along her cheek, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her skin.

"Reveal all your secrets."

When his mouth reaches her ear, he nibbles on the lobe. Emma's eyes fly open and she blinks into the dim light of the room as she tries to get a handle on herself. She can't. He doesn't let her. He lifts her up and then adjusts his cock until it is pressing between the slippery folds of her wet cunt. He nudges just the head into her. Emma admires his strength and control even as she starts to lose her own, wriggling in his arms to try and get more of his length inside of her.

"Until there is nowhere you can hide."

Crying out, Emma arches her back when he slides into her fully. Her hands are still clutching his shirt and she uses that leverage to keep herself steady as she lifts herself back up this time and then sinks back down. The burn as he stretches her isn't as strong as it was the first time, but she still aches from the roughness of their first encounter so she keeps the pace slow while her body adjusts to his size.

Her hair falls across her face as she looks down at the conjoined bodies, the barely uncovered skin of his upper thighs. She trails her eyes back upwards as she continues to ride him slowly. When she reaches his face, she falters in her steady movements, taken off guard by the unbridled lust in his eyes, the dark heat that is focused solely on her.

When she tries to return to her former pace, he stops her, holding her hips to him.

"Rock against me," he says harshly.

The commanding tone of his voice makes her bite her lip in pleasure, and she rushes to obey. She rocks against him. He hits bottom, pressing against her walls, stretching them further than they have ever been before. Emma feels him in her core. She feels like he is splitting her into pieces only to build her back up again with each press of his cock.

"_Fuck_," Emma says.

"Yeah," he says. "That's what I'm doing, Emma. Fucking you. Fucking the air right out of your lungs. Do you like that, Emma? Do you want me to fuck you until the only thing you know is the feeling of my cock inside of you? Would you like that, Emma?"

She whines and nods, unable to voice how very much she would like that. He releases her hips and pushes his hips forward and into her. It is only Emma's grasp in his shirt that keeps her from falling out of his lap, but even that isn't enough. She hears the tear of his shirt when he thrusts inside her again, the fabric falling into her hands. She claws at his chest, trying to gain some kind of leverage. He doesn't seem to care that his shirt has torn, just keeps up the brutal pace that breaks all the words Emma might've said into pieces in her mouth.

"I love fucking you, Emma. Love feeling your wet cunt around my cock. You're so good for me, we fit so well, Emma, love. The perfect team," he says.

Emma's nails dig into his biceps, using them to hold herself up. She is so close. She feels like she is the shore, waiting for the stormy wave to come crashing down.

"Fuck," he says.

His next thrust is the wave that sends her sailing over the edge. They come together; she dimly realizes that he is no longer thrusting, just resting, buried to the hilt inside of her.

"I -" he starts to say.

She hushes him with a kiss to his lips, to his cheek, to his neck, and they stay like that, entangled together, for a long time afterward.


	3. you know i like it rough

**Title: **you know i like it rough

**Summary: **Sequel to Demands and Crash, Crash, Burn. Hook touches something that Rumpelstiltskin left on his ship and it leads to him being transformed into a woman. Hook's first thought: how best he can take advantage of the situation. Emma's first thought: how badly she wants to kiss her senseless.

**Notes: **femslash, ahoy! don't like, don't read. Also, my fem!Killian is Eva Green.

* * *

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, Hook says in a throwback to their conversation in the Giants' castle, "Try something new, darling."

Emma frowns at him. The image of him as a woman still hasn't righted itself in her mind. Well, righted isn't exactly the word for it because it looks _right_, just how she would imagine a female Hook to look with smoky eyes - she asks herself whether he just owned eye shadow already or whether the spell had magically applied it - tousled hair, curvy form with a light brush of muscles that casually highlights that he - _she?_ - can handle _her_self in a fight.

No, it isn't that the image doesn't look right, what isn't right is how attracted Emma still is to him now that he is a she. It isn't that she has never thought about it before. She has, many times, day dreamed about beautiful girls she has seen and wondered what it would be like to kiss them, to be with them. But it has never been like this, this visceral _need_ to ravish, to push Hook down on her bed and have her way with her.

Emma licks her bottom lip. Hook grins like she has won, a gentle curving of her lips that Emma just wants to kiss until that smile has opened up into a cry of pleasure.

Hook may think she has won, but Emma has terms. They've only been together twice now, and Emma still has needs, though they've changed a bit with Hook's new form. What she wants now is to dominate. She has taken what Hook was willing to give, but it is her turn to give now.

"Tick tock, Emma. We don't know how long this spell will last," Hook says, tapping her foot on the ground.

"Shut-up," Emma says sharply. "I didn't give you permission to speak."

Hook blinks dumbly, surprise etched in the sharp and delicate features of her face. She shakes her head like she is coming out of a stupor and then says, "Oh, we're playing that game, are we?"

"You're still speaking," Emma says and walks towards Hook. "I have one rule: You follow all my commands, no arguments." After a thoughtful pause, she asks, "Do you want a safe word?"

Hook shakes her head and says, "No. Do with me what you will."

_Try something new, darling. It's called trust. _

Hook trusts her.

Emma is going to repay that trust tenfold.

"Take your shirt off," she demands; the authority comes easy to her.

She watches carefully as Hook divests herself of her shirt. The revealed skin is lightly scarred, like Hook himself, but it looks flawless to Emma. Her breasts are round and full, her nipples hard - the room is too warm for it to be from the cold. Emma smirks.

She closes the distance between them and grasps Hook's jaw in her hands. It is smooth, so unlike the usual scruff, and Emma likes it, likes the feeling of it beneath her fingers. Instead of kissing Hook on the mouth like she originally came to do, Emma kisses over her hairless jaw, following the curve of her chin all the way up to her mouth. Hook's lips are soft, and when they part, Emma devours their sweetness and licks her tongue inside Hook's mouth. Her mouth is just as sweet as her lips.

Emma swallows Hook's moan with her lips.

When she pulls away, Hook pants, hot breaths that make Emma smirk again. She could get used to this, watching Hook come undone.

Blue eyes meet hers and for a moment, Emma just stares, lost in Hook's beauty. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as something unidentifiable rushes through her veins. She hasn't done much yet, but she is already turned on, wetness causing her underwear to cling to her cunt, the cotton soft against her.

She trails her gaze across Hook's face and then moves it lower, down to the dusky, hardened peaks of Hook's nipples. With one hand, she traces the areola of Hook's nipple. Hook stiffens against her, drawing in a hard breath.

"_Emma_..."

"Shh. No speaking," Emma commands.

Emma pulls her hand away from Hook's breast and then pulls her to her. Leaning down she captures Hook's nipple in her mouth. She teases the peak with her tongue and teeth, painfully aware of just how hard her own nipples now are. If Hook is anything like her, she likes a little more pressure. Emma applies it and Hook tenses in her arm before relaxing against her with a long drawn out moan. Emma repeats the gesture, and then sucks hard on the nipple while Hook shifts against her restlessly, panting again.

Emma releases the breast and does the same to the other one until Hook is mumbling unintelligibly. Emma likes this, likes the way Hook's breast fits in her mouth, the way she trembles against her, but she wants more, so much more, so straightening, Emma says, "On the bed."

For a moment, Hook looks like she might protest, but then she seems to decide against it, bites her lip and walks across the room to climb on to the bed.

"On your back," Emma instructs as she approaches, stripping her own shirt off as she does so.

Hook stares at her, eyes trailing over the exposed skin with a dark heat that makes Emma grow warm. She wills her voice to have some sense of authority to it as she says, "Pants off."

It must work because Hook obliges. By the time she has stripped down to nothing at all, Emma has kicked her shoes off and taken off her own pants. Standing in nothing but her wet underwear, Emma looks Hook over.

Her eyes linger over Hook's breasts before moving lower to the apex of her thighs and the dark hair that covers her sex. Hook is no delicate flower; there is something in her form that just highlights the dark power underneath.

After a moment, Emma moves towards the bed, climbs on it so that she can straddle Hook's hips. Through her underwear, Emma grinds her sex against Hook's and imagines she can see the fireworks that explode behind Hook's eyes as Hook moans.

Emma leans down and kisses the corners of Hook's mouth, continues her grinding motion until Hook can't even keep up the kiss, too busy struggling to catch her breath. Emma laughs, a tinkling sound that does nothing to shut out the sound of Hook's pleasure.

"Emma, Emma, please," Hook begs when she pulls away.

"I said to be quiet, didn't I?" Emma says. "Since you can't seem to control yourself..."

Emma climbs off the bed and walks towards Hook's desk. She opens up one of the drawers, searches through it until she finds what she is looking for.

_The black scarf._

When she returns to the bed, she tells Hook, "Lift up." Hook bites her lip and then does what she has been told, lifting her head off the pillow.

Carefully, Emma ties the scarf around Hook's head so that she is now gagged.

This time Emma is the one to bring back the memory of a previous encounter. "Beautiful," Emma compliments.

Hook rolls her eyes, tries to say something, but what comes out is a garbled mess. Emma smiles when she glares up at her, laughs when Hook's eyes narrow angrily.

"I told you to listen. You're the one who couldn't follow the rules. Bad girls get punished."

Emma meant it in a joking way, but the way Hook's eyes grow hooded...Realization dawns. Hook is turned on by her words.

"Do you like to be punished?" Emma asks.

Hook looks away.

"Is _that_ what you want," Emma says. "On your hand and knees."

When Hook doesn't move, Emma commands again, "Turn on your stomach and get on your hand and knees."

Hook follows the command this time, turning onto her hands and knees. Emma walks closer so that she can trace the gentle curve of Hook's ass with her hand. She doesn't give any warning before she lets the first smack land against Hook's right cheek.

Hook's arms tremble, but otherwise doesn't react. That isn't what Emma wants, and she knows now that it isn't what Hook wants either.

She hits her again, this time the left cheek. Hook trembles again, this time a full bodied one that makes her knees shake. Emma trails her fingers down the muscled thighs. She moves her hand in between Hook's legs, urges her to spread them wider. When she does, Emma slaps the inside of her thighs.

Hook makes a noise then, a choked off grunt. Emma repeats the motion on the other thigh and Hook moans.

"Bad girls like you, they deserve to be punished," Emma says hotly. She can feel the red colour her cheeks, but doesn't care when Hook lets out a sound that is mightily close to a whimper.

"You're such a bad girl, _Killian_. You love this, don't you?" Emma stresses each word with a smack to Hook's inner thighs.

"Only bad girls like being punished."

Hook throws her head back, wild hair flying across her back. Her cry is muffled by the gag, but it still sounds loudly in the quiet room. Emma realizes that she is breathing heavily, and her clit throbs with need.

"On your stomach now," Emma says.

She forces herself not to jump on Hook as soon as she turns over. Instead she stares at Hook's face. Hook's eyes are closed as she breathes harshly. Emma wonders what she is thinking, wonders if she has sent Hook to the same place he sent her when they did this. Does she feel like she is floating? Or is she so grounded by the touch that she can't feel anything but the sting of Emma's smacks? Emma knows which one she prefers. She wants Hook right here with her.

"Open your eyes," Emma commands.

Slowly, Hook obeys.

"Stay with me. We're not done yet."

Hook gives her a small nod.

"Spread your legs."

When she does, Emma settles herself back on the bed, shoulders between Hook's womanly thighs.

Breathing heavily, she stares at Hook's wet sex. It takes Emma a moment to realize what is happening when Hook starts to tremble, but when it clicks, Emma smirks.

Emma likes her like this, desperate and needy. She blows over Hook's clit again, and Hook squirms. Emma smiles repeating the motion until Hook is positively lost.

"You're sensitive, aren't you?" Emma says.

When she finally touches, spreading Hook's folds with her fingers, Hook bucks her hips up into the touch. Emma pauses for a moment, for the first time since this encounter started, unsure; she has never done this before. Hook's needy mewl through the gag makes Emma's own hips shift on the bed, desperate for friction, and spurs her on.

Fingers sliding through Hook's wetness, Emma slides them up to gently press against Hook's clit. Hook bucks up again and with her other hand, Emma slaps her thigh hard enough to leave a mark.

"Don't move."

She goes back to toying with Hook's clit, oscillating between gentle brushes of her fingers to thrumming it with her fingers to pinching it lightly. Hook makes noises through the gag that sound like almost words, and Emma is sure that without that gag, she'd be calling out Emma's name again. Emma can't deny that hearing Hook call out her name turns her on, but hearing the muffled moans turns her on all the more.

She pulls her fingers away from Hook's clit and dips her finger inside Hook, slowly stretching her out. Hook is tight, unsurprising considering the fact that she technically hasn't done this before, but she is wet. It isn't long before Emma is able to add a second finger, and Hook tenses when Emma does.

"Relax," Emma says gently. She smoothes her other hand over Hook's thigh until she obeys and Emma is able to move her fingers in and out of her in slow motions.

She strokes Hook's inner walls with her fingers and when the wetness begins to build again, she moves forward and takes Hook's clit into her mouth. Hook cries, a sound that stretches on for long moments, and then she thrusts her hips forward, pushing more of Emma's fingers into her. Emma doesn't oblige Hook's obvious need, continuing her slow pumps in and out of Hook's sex.

"Come for me," Emma says, pulling away from Hook's clit. "Come for me," she commands loudly, and Hook does, inner walls tightening around Emma's fingers.

It has been building for a while, her own orgasm, but when Hook comes just from Emma's words, Emma reaches down the hand that isn't between Hook's leg to touch her own clit in rapid fire motions until she is coming too, gasping his name, _Killian, Killian, Killian._

She rests her head on Hook's inner thigh, sucking in one deep breath after another. Carefully, she pulls her fingers out of Hook's cunt. She looks up at Hook to see her staring down at Emma, and she keeps her gaze as she licks the wetness off her fingers.

Emma climbs up Hook's body, sucking hickeys into the soft skin of her thighs, her stomach, her breasts before she moves to her mouth. She removes the gag, and when she does, Hook doesn't say anything for a long while.

When she finally does break the silence, she says, "Wanna go again?"

Emma laughs, long and loud, as Hook's arms wrap around her, curl in her hair and pull her even closer.


	4. i could eat you up alive

**Title: **I Could Eat You Up Alive

**Summary:** Everything comes to a head.

**Notes: **I am choking because puns in that summary, but anyways, blowjob + feelings because I'm in that kind of mood. I'd say this is the end of this series, but I have one more fic, set before this where Emma gets turned into a man (mutual masturbation ftw!) and then I am finished.

* * *

They're playing a dangerous game now.

It has all been building up ever since Neverland, and everything that has happened after that, all their shared moments behind the closed doors of his cabin, have shaken the very foundation of their relationship. Demolished it and reshaped it into something that Emma is almost certain that she is finally ready to face.

The question: is he ready, too?

Positioned on the floor at the base of the bed, Emma kneels between Hook's spread legs as she circles the base of his cock with her wet palm. Her touch is feather light. She can tell he wants more by the way he thrusts into her fist. With her other hand, she smacks him on his bared thigh hard enough to leave a red handprint.

"Stay still. I don't want to have to tell you again."

Hook laughs, a sound that rumbles through him and makes his whole body tremble. "And what are you gonna do, love? Punish me?"

"If I have to," Emma says coolly as she stares up at him. "Now, stay still."

She hears the huff of breath he lets out, but otherwise he doesn't make a sound.

She tightens her grip on his cock, just enough that she can feel him warm and beating in her hand. Slowly, she slides her hand all the way up to the tip, tracing the vein along his length with her fingers. Hook lets out another heavy breath. Emma glances up at him beneath lowered lashes, smiles before she leans forward on her knees and presses a kiss to the head of his cock. Precum clings to her lips, and he shudders, watching her lick the taste off her lips while she watches him start to unravel.

She tilts her head to the side as she studies him. His blue eyes look electric, bright blue embers flickering behind his eyes. Hook could start a fire with that gaze.

In fact, he already has.

She shifts, trails her nails down his thigh and across his knee before pulling away altogether. She is only wearing her underwear, and she uses her now free hand to rub her clit through her underwear. Hook watches her with parted lips, just as she parts hers, leans forward to take the tip of his cock into her mouth. She sucks lightly, twirling her tongue along the head.

"Fuck," he says.

Emma smirks around the head of his cock, and takes more of him into her mouth. He tastes of the sea. She bobs her head back and forth, sucking harder. When he starts trying to thrust into her mouth, she pulls away with a wet pop.

"Don't move," she tries to say with some authority, but her words come out breathless to her own ears. Her fingers are still moving over her clit in fast strokes, her growing wetness making the motions easier.

"You alright there, love?" Hook says, amusement colouring the roughness in his voice.

Instead of telling him to shut-up, instead of doing anything to stop this from completely spiraling out of her control, Emma surges forward and wraps her mouth around his cock until the head is pressing against the entrance to her throat. He gasps, curses emphatically, a litany of words that come out like a babble as she deep throats him until her mouth his wrapped around the base of his cock, brushing the curly hair of his sex.

She pulls away when the need for air becomes too much. Emma takes in deep breaths, and closes her eyes, trying to steady herself. Her fingers are still moving over her sex, but she is so sensitive right now that if she keeps going at the same rate, she'll lose control before she wants to. Her underwear are soaked through, the air cooling the wetness and only adding fuel to the fire his gaze has created.

When Emma opens her eyes, she blinks up at him and says, "Fuck my mouth."

To Hook's credit, he doesn't look too shocked by her request. Soon, a smile curves his lips and clearing his throat, he says huskily, "Whatever you want, love."

_Whatever she wanted._

She is starting to think that he truly means that.

She kisses the head of his cock again before she wraps her lips around him. He doesn't move to touch her, but he does thrust into her mouth. The movement is gentle, not like what she wants. She whines as best she can with him in her mouth. His hips stutter and then he is thrusting deeper, brushing her throat with every fast drive of his hips.

When Hook's cock presses against her throat again, she sucks in a deep breath and opens her throat for him to slide in. She gags, but he doesn't return to his gentle movements. He gets rougher then, forcing more of himself into her throat.

Tears start to prickle at Emma's eyes and slide down her cheeks. The fingers on her clit start to slip as she speeds up her movements. It feels too good; it is too much. He pulls away to allow her some time to breathe. Only moments later though, he thrusts into her again, short, fast movements that do more to steal the breath from her lungs than when he was buried in her throat.

Emma sobs out her pleasure around his cock as her orgasm shatters her from the inside out, lightning in her nerves that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her system.

She closes her eyes as he pulses into her, shooting come into her mouth. When he finally pulls away, leaving a sticky trail on her lips, she opens her eyes so she can watch him as she swallows his seed.

Emma imagines what she must look like to him, the picture of a debauched woman with come on her lips, tears in her eyes, and finger still on her throbbing clit, savoring the last tiny sparks of pleasure that fire through her with every touch. She knows what he looks like to her, with sweat clinging to his skin, panting. She licks the last of his come away, and gives him a small smile.

Time passes slowly. Finally, he says, "Can I touch now, or am I still not allowed?"

Emma nods her acquiescence. His hand shoots out to brush her hair from her face.

"Come here, Emma," he says. It is more of a request than a demand, but he is looking at her with such an intensity that Emma can do nothing but obey. She stands up and climbs into his lap, encircling him with her arms.

When she is comfortable, she looks up at him again. He studies her with a distant look on his face. She stares back, wonders what he is thinking. It is usually at this point that Emma goes to sleep, but that isn't what she wants. Not anymore.

"Killian," she starts. The distant look in his eyes disappears. "Killian," she repeats again.

"What are you saying, Emma?"

Emma quirks both eyebrows, smirking. "Your name."

"_Why_?" he pleads with her and searches her face with his eyes.

Emma loses the smirk and not daring to look away, she replies, "You should - um - we should do dinner."

"Dinner?" he asks.

"At my parents, we should have a dinner. You, me, Henry, my parents. It would be nice," Emma says. Her heart is thumping in her chest, but she isn't going to take the request back. Before they'd started _this_, she would have. Even yesterday, she might've. But today, she just can't.

Because he trusts her, and she trusts him, too. They've proved that too each other time and time again, but it is only now that it sinks in, what this trust between them truly means.

"Dinner. I could do that," he says.

Emma smiles at him. He leans down, presses his lips to her cheek gently.

"No," Emma says, pulling back. "Kiss me like you mean it."

"I do mean it," he says and kisses her again. She sighs into his touch and lets the feeling of his pressed against her take her away like gentle waves pulling her into the sea.


	5. make me come alive

**title: **make me come alive

**summary: **_She has started calling him Killian in her head, but when he is looking at her like this, half-smirking, just enough to show the barest hint of teeth, Emma only sees Captain Hook._

**notes: **also known as that fic that grace made me write because she is an enabler. spreader bar + vibrator + feelings because yeah.

* * *

She has started calling him Killian in her head, but when he is looking at her like this, half-smirking, just enough to show the barest hint of teeth, Emma only sees Captain Hook.

He chuckles and says, "Do you know how you look, Swan? Bound and gagged for my pleasure..." Hook trails off, tapping his finger on his chin contemplatively. "What should I do with you?"

Emma leans back on the bar spreading her hands apart. There is a bar between her ankles as well that keeps her legs splayed open. She is propped up on the pillows, her knees bent and her feet planted on the bed. With his eyes roving over her body, every inch bared to him, Emma has never felt so naked in her life. She breathes out through her nose, the gag in her mouth making it difficult to do anything else.

They're trying new things now, falling farther into the dark fantasies they've only ever entertained in their minds. Emma squirms under his gaze as she imagines what Hook might do to her, what she wants him to do to her.

He places his hook on her knee and Emma stops moving as he marks a path across the expanse of skin. He is so careful with it, barely pressing against her, definitely not enough to even break the skin. Emma's body starts to react, not so much to the touch, but to how easily he holds himself back - Hook is the eye of the storm, the calm at the center.

Emma wants to see that tempest unleashed.

She shrugs her shoulders and cracks her neck.

"Comfortable, love?"

Emma nods her head and closes her eyes to emphasize her point. Moments later, they fly open as his hook leaves her knee to trace under the curve of her breast. The cool point against her heated skin makes her hairs stand on end and her nipples harden, aching points begging to be touched. Or so he says in a murmur that Emma only just manages to catch.

He pulls the hook away and quickly looses the straps to replace it with his prosthetic hand. There is something so attractive about how capable he is. Emma stares at him with hooded eyes. He glances up from his motions just for a moment, and when their eyes meet, Hook smirks like he knows exactly what she is thinking.

Maybe he does. With him, she is always an open book.

When he has switched them out, he lays down beside her on the bed. Lying on his side, he traces his fingers over the curve of her breast. It is so much different than when he touched her with his hook, his hand warm enough to start an inferno on her skin.

He curls his fingers upward, the nails scratching lightly as they travel across her breast to brush against her areola.

Emma turns to look at him. His gaze is focused solely on watching her face and she feels herself redden as he says, "Aye, but you are gorgeous, lass."

He shifts on the bed so that his head hovers over her breast before he surges forward to lick around her nipple. The peaks stiffen even more. Emma holds in a breath, waiting.

She doesn't have to wait long.

"Ah," she gasps around the gag when his teeth graze her nipple. The pain is sharp, wouldn't last but he doesn't move away and so it stings, needles pressing into her skin.

The next words she says are unintelligible as he presses the flat of his tongue to her abused skin, laving it. When Emma arches off the bed, he bites down again, and then he repeats the cycle over and over again until a wordless cry leaves her mouth.

Her body liquefies and her release trickles down the crack of her ass, pooling beneath her. Emma wants to close her legs, do anything to ease the ache. She strains, but to no avail, the bar keeping her hopelessly stuck.

She whimpers, the gag in her mouth now soaked from her trying to speak.

"Calm down, love," Hook says huskily. He moves away from her breast, kissing up the side of her neck until he reaches the spot just beneath her ear, which he licks over and over again. He nibbles on her ear lobe, tongue moving across her skin wetly as he says, "We're only just getting started."

Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving Emma feeling bereft. She uses the distance to try to get a hold of herself, sucking in deep breaths of air. When she has her breathing under control, she turns, looking for him to find him hovering over her.

In his hand is something Emma has only mentioned once, in passing, a curved purple rabbit vibrator, specially made to stimulate both the g-spot and her clit at the same time. She can't imagine where he found it, doesn't want to think about _any_ of the characters of Storybrooke selling such a thing to Hook of all people.

Instead she focuses on what it means for her.

More release slides down between her ass crack as she drools around the gag, turned on by the thought of him fucking her with it. Her heart starts trying to fight its way out of her chest as he kneels down beside the bed, clutching the vibe in hand.

With his good hand, he reaches between her legs and strokes her clit lightly.

"Well, _you are_ wet. So ready for this, aren't you?" he murmurs as he pinches her clit between his forefinger and thumb before releasing it.

Emma moans when he slides his fingers lower, searching for her entrance. When one finger slides in, she clenches around him, ripples of heat sparking in her nerves.

He doesn't hesitate to push another finger inside her, and another until he is fucking her with three fingers, stroking her walls and just brushing that spot inside her that sends sharp spikes of sensation coursing through her veins.

With her legs spread open and cunt filled up, Emma lets go, lets the feelings build up without holding back, and when her orgasm sears through her, she lets out a breathy gasp.

Before she knows what is happening, he is sliding the vibe into her wet channel. Her cunt flutters around it, aftershocks from her orgasm. The thick vibe slides in smoothly. Hook stretched her well; there is barely any resistance.

With it just touching her, it already feels like fire in her veins. She can't imagine what it will be like when he turns it on.

She doesn't have to imagine anyway, because once the rabbit eared tip is pressed against her clit, he flicks the switch, turning it on to a low hum.

At first, it just feels like a gentle pressure, waves lapping on a beach. The longer it is pressed against her though, the more it builds up and Hook doesn't help matters, thrusting the vibe in and out of her so that she feels the pressure everywhere. Her clit throbs with every passing stroke of the tip.

"God, you look _so_ good like this. I want to fuck you, Emma. Want to feel it as you come around me, want to hear you cry out my name like I am the only thing you know."

She bites down hard on the gag in her mouth as the pressure becomes overwhelming. She wants to push his hand away, to fuck herself with the vibe with one hand and touch and pinch her sensitive nipples with the other. She wants to close her legs around the vibe and ride it, but she can't do any of that. All she can do is clench her hands into fists, twisting her legs and arms in the confines of her bonds, and let him give her what he wants.

"Emma, fuck, Emma, love, you look so filthy like this."

He pauses for a moment as Emma turns to look at him.

"Do you know what I want, Emma?" Hook says in a tone that brings her up sharp, focusing all her attention on him even as she loses herself in the feeling of the vibe stroking her insides while the tip brushes her clit in light caresses.

"I want to rub my cock all over your body, to fuck your mouth until you're choking around me, and then when you've think you've had enough, I'll push you down on your hands and knees and take you from behind."

When she comes, she screams, a cry choked off by the gag. Instead of releasing her from the unbearable pleasure, he leans over and flicks the switch on the vibe. The speed of the vibrations increases. Emma screams again as wave upon waves of pleasure crash over her.

It is too much.

It isn't enough.

Her third orgasm hits her like floods breaking through a dam, and Emma drowns in it. She doesn't have enough air, she can't breathe, and she cries, whimpers, _sobs_ because she is lost in his storm, unable to find her way back to safer territory.

"Emma. Emma, sweetheart," his soothing voice breaks through, finds her in the storm and pulls her back to safety.

His hand moves behind her head, loosening the straps on the gag. When she is finally free, she coughs, trying to clear her throat and steady her heartbeat. Emma's whole body trembles. Her arms and legs feel sore, unsurprisingly. She'd fought hard against the tight ropes around her wrists and legs, can already feel the chafing skin underneath.

"I'm okay," she says hoarsely, tired tears forming in her eyes. "I'm okay."

"Shh," he says, stroking her sweat-soaked forehead. "It's alright, my love."

Emma sighs into his touch, closes her eyes and lets Killian wipe the tears away.


	6. If I Were a Boy

**Title: **If I Were a Boy

**Summary: **Thinking that the stone statuette has lost its power, Emma picks it up to take it to Mr. Gold. Her first thought as a dude: _what the ever-loving fuck?_

**Notes: **Mutual Masturbation between Male!Emma and fem!Hook. If you don't like, don't read. Set right after ch: 3. "You Know I Like It Rough"

* * *

She enters Gold's shop like a hurricane on the warpath.

"Who are you?" Gold says, staring between Emma and Hook in confusion.

"You know who I am, who she is," Emma says, anger making her voice deeper.

Gold's eyes dart over Hook again, a slow look up and down as Hook glares back at him.

"Emma Swan and Captain _Hook_," Gold says. "How charming."

Emma ignores the judgment in his voice; it only feeds fuel to her fire.

"What in the fuck is this thing, and why hasn't it changed me back? Why hasn't it changed either of us back?" Emma demands, thrusting the statuette in Gold's face. He takes a step back and pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket before accepting the stone statuette.

"I'd think the statuette itself would make it quite obvious what it is," Gold says.

When Emma just stares at him, he continues, "This is Hermaphroditos, God of Hermaphrodites."

"And?" Emma demands because _what the fuck?_

"And what, dearie?" His lips are curled in the barest hint of a smile, but Emma knows that inside he is laughing at her.

"This is some kind of punishment, isn't it?" Emma says, glaring at him. "I don't want to be a dude. Change. Me. Back."

"I can't change you back, Emma. You have to change yourself back," Gold says.

"How?"

"By getting in touch with your masculine side," he explains.

"So, what I get into a couple of fist fights? Go to a car show? _What_?" Emma is growing more frantic by the moment.

His mouth curves into a true smile. "Not exactly, Ms - or should I say, _Mr._ Swan."

He really is laughing at her. _Asshole_.

"It has to be a little more _personal_ than that," Gold says.

A beat passes. Emma realizes what he is trying to say.

"Fuck. Off," Emma says, and storms out of his shop.

Hook catches up to her just outside Gold's shop.A slender hand wraps around Emma's muscled arm, pulling her backwards.

"You have to help me. We can just - I don't know, do it until we change back," Emma says when Hook releases her. She runs her fingers through her short cropped hair, wrenching out a few of the tiny golden strands in her frustration.

In her lilt that sounds even more like a bedroom voice than when she was a man, Hook says, "There's one problem, love. I'm not attracted to men."

She is laughing at Emma, too. Emma _hates_ her.

"So, I'm going to have to figure this out on my own," Emma says stiffly.

Hook's expression shifts, the amusement leaving her face. "I never said that, love."

"You're going to help? _How_? You just said you're not into guys," Emma says, drawing her brows together in confusion.

"I'm not, but I am _into_ you, and I can't leave you to suffer this alone," he says seriously.

"Oh."

* * *

They return to the ship and Hook's cabin. Hook tells Emma to strip down and pull up her chair to the edge of the bed.

Emma feels awkward stripping; she has tried not to think about the changes in her body since they happened, but now as she takes off her uncomfortable clothes, she can't help but think about it.

Her legs are hairy, but not more than when she hasn't shaved for a month. Her chest is flat, her nipples smaller. They tighten as the air hits them, but the feeling is more awkward than enjoyable. She traces them for a moment - no, they're not sensitive, not really in a way that she likes. The toned lines of her stomach are more pronounced; she has abs now.

"Would you like to see yourself in the mirror, Swan?"

Emma shakes her head quickly, but then says, "Why not? It isn't like I could look any worse."

Hook snorts and brings a small mirror over to Emma. She has stripped down to nothing but her pants so her breasts hang invitingly before Emma's eyes as she holds up the mirror. Hook smirks when Emma has trouble looking away. Emma curses, and with determination, looks in the mirror.

_Not bad,_ she thinks, and the fact that she looks like someone she might go home with, handsome with not to sharp features and a light hint of blonde scruff makes her feel somewhat better.

"Thanks," Emma says, and Hook disappears with the mirror.

Emma goes back to stripping down. She doesn't look at her cock as it pops out of her underwear because she has a cock, and even finding out that she is attractive doesn't make that any more palatable.

When she is fully undressed, Emma pulls the chair up to the edge of the bed. Stripped down to nothing at all, Hook lays across the bed, hand moving gently over her skin. She starts tracing circles around her navel before dipping her hand lower and _oh my god_, Emma's cock starts to grow hard at the sight.

"This is fucking weird," Emma says. She reddens at the sound of her voice, all rough, deep, and heavy with lust.

"Shhh," Hook says. "Just go with it, Swan."

Emma leans forward in her chair as Hook spreads her legs wider, revealing more of her pale skin. Emma follows the line of Hook's thighs all the way up to the apex. She has memorized Hook's body, spent hours doing just that, but looking at her still turns her on.

Now, though, the feeling is uncomfortable, _weird_. She shakes her head, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. She isn't going to freak out any longer, Emma decides. Like Hook said, she is going to just go with it.

Emma reaches her hand down and grasps her length in hand. Sparks chase across her vision with the simple touch, and that feeling is something Emma knows well.

"Ah," Hook says, a sexy squeak when she presses two fingers to her clit, rubbing in slow circles. Her outer lips are already glistening with wetness, and as sensitive as Hook is, it isn't long until release leaks out between them.

It isn't that though that makes Emma stiffen, release her cock, lick her palm wetly, and return that hand to her cock. No, it is the way that Hook's mouth falls open in a 'o.' Emma wants to capture the sound that falls from Hook's mouth, the low, drawn out moan that echoes in the quiet room.

Instead, she closes her eyes and wraps her hand around her cock, squeezing lightly before sliding that fist up. She gets a good pace going, back and forth, and it feels good, kind of like how it usually feels except the feeling is more contained. It builds, low in her belly, a warmth that slowly spreads throughout her body.

"Play with the tip," Hook's voice breaks through the silence in the room.

Emma opens her eyes to see Hook watching her with hooded eyes. Emma's eyes trail lower, over the round curves of Hook's breasts down to her sex. Hook slowly slides one finger in and out of her cunt, and watching it disappear inside what Emma knows to be the warm, wet reaches of her body makes Emma stutter in her movements.

"Play with the tip, Swan," Hook says roughly.

Emma pulls her palm away, licking just her fingers this time before touching the tip of her cock. The head is pink, leaking pre-cum and when Emma touches it, she jolts up. It feels good. It feels beyond good.

It feels amazing.

Emma strokes light fingers over the tip as more pre-cum builds, and her strokes become messy. The feeling intensifies, becomes too much, and then Hook says, "Emma, cradle your balls."

When Emma just blinks at her, Hook stresses, "You'll like it."

The _trust me _ is implicit, so Emma does. With the hand that isn't on her cock, she reaches down beneath her to touch her balls. She jolts up again. They feel softer than she thought they would feel and when she touches them it feels like sparks again.

"Oh, ah, _oh_," she says and closes her eyes again, savoring the feeling as she slowly slides fingers around her balls, cupping them in hand.

She moves her other hand away from the tip and begins fucking into it again. When she opens her eyes, she watches as Hook's chest heaves, stomach tightening and relaxing as she slips two fingers in and out of her cunt. Her palm is against her clit, pressing up and down in a rhythm that matches the motion of her fingers.

Unlike Emma, Hook's eyes are open wide as she starts letting out panting breaths. Moments later, Hook comes with a breathy moan.

Emma's hand movements speeds up, until she gasps, makes a small noise as she comes. Release slides over her fist and spills over her fingers. Moments later, she feels that tugging sensation, like her body is being pulled apart, and she fists her hand in the air in triumph until she realizes that it is still covered in come despite her body's return to its normal state.

"Ugh, gross," she says. She leans forward on the bed, wiping it on the edge of his sheets.

"Swan," Hook warns gruffly. He has been changed back too, and he looks put-out, annoyed. He must really have enjoyed being a woman, far more than Emma enjoyed being a man.

Emma smirks. "Oh, you don't mind, do you?"

He sits up rapidly, stalks across the bed, pulls Emma up out of her chair and onto the bed. Emma giggles, feeling giddy and falls into the touch.

"Never again," Emma says.

Hook makes a 'hmph' noise and says, "It wasn't that bad. Breasts are heavy, but you get used to the feeling."

When Emma just stares at him, he continues, "But never again, right. Never again."

Emma presses her face into his neck, inhales the strong, distinctly_ male_ scent that is his and his alone, and smiles.


	7. tonight imma let you be the captain

**title: **Tonight Imma Let You Be the Captain

**summary: **Emma's in charge again, and they're trying something new.

**notes: **ice cubes because I wanted it and I couldn't resist whoops. also, this got feelsy at the end, but that's just how it goes. also, first time Killian POV, hopefully it turned out alright.

* * *

Killian loves it when Emma is in charge.

She'd entered like a whirlwind, without knocking, just like that first time, carrying a bag of ice and a bucket.

"Tonight, I'm the Captain," she'd said.

Killian's mouth had curved in a smile as he said, "Alright, Captain Swan, what's on the agenda?"

The way she'd studied him then - dark heat in her gaze that sent shivers of want down his body - had left him wondering just exactly what she had planned that would give her such a look.

She hadn't told him, but he'd figured it out, the moment she said, "Take off your shirt and jacket," and pulled the handcuffs out of her back pocket.

And now here he is, stripped down to nothing but his pants, chained to the bed with hook removed, and waiting for her to start what is likely to be his undoing (but then, she has been unraveling him since the moment he laid eyes on her).

"I don't have all the time in the world, Swan," he says while she sits behind him on the pillows.

She shifts and then leans over him, round breasts with dusky, pink nipples hanging in his face, and says, "You have time enough for me. Patience is a virtue."

"I'm not a virtuous man," he says darkly, trying to lean forward to take one of those nipples into his mouth.

She snaps back up before he can. He tsks angrily as she says, "And here I thought you were a gentleman."

"Gentleman, love, does not necessarily mean virtuous," he says.

His ears perk up with the crunching noise behind him and he tries to look back to see what she is doing. She grabs him by the hair roughly, yanking his head back into its original position as she whispers hotly in his ear, "Don't make me punish you."

She releases him and he doesn't try to look again. He counts his breaths as he waits. He can already feel the first tinges of arousal surging through him.

Her hand appears above him, ice cube wrapped in her slender fingers. She takes the ice cube and slides it over his lips first. With a wicked grin, he licks out, tasting the cold melt on his tongue. There are other things he'd like to taste more, but he'll take what he can get for now.

Emma smirks, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Thirsty?"

Killian growls, "You have no idea."

Emma laughs, a sound that races through him, an injection of heat that goes straight to his groin. He shifts, and Emma laughs again.

"Don't I?" she asks, silky smooth, breath moving over his cheek as she crawls backwards on the bed.

The bucket shakes as Emma reaches in for another ice cube, the other one having melted in her hand. Killian imagines that warmth wrapped around him. She could make him melt too.

She leans over him quickly, pressing the ice cube to his neck. The shock of cold against his skin makes his hair stand on end. Her golden locks flow down her face, obscuring it as she leans over him.

Slowly, she moves it lower as it melts on his skin. When she reaches his chest, she traces the ice in circles that grow smaller and smaller until the ice presses against his nipple. He keens, the cold tugging at him from the inside. She does the same to other nipple and giggles lightly when he reacts exactly the same.

The ice leaves his nipples a raw red color, and the cold water runs down his chest, clinging to his thick chest hair. His chest heaves as Emma traces the rivulets of ice water with her tongue. He is cold, but he is so hot, and he feels like he might set them both afire if she continues licking him the way she is.

Killian wouldn't be surprised if that is exactly what she is going for.

She gasps as she moves lower, pressing her cunt to his chest as she leads the melting ice down past his nipples to the trail of hair leading to his crotch. She leaves another line of wetness down his chest, a warm one this time. He stares at the round curve of her lovely ass, wishes he could cradle that softness in his hands.

God, but Emma is beautiful. He tells her that every time they're together, but he means it just as much every single time. Clothes on, clothes off, Emma is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. It isn't just the way that she looks, it is the way she holds herself, the golden glow that seems to radiate from her. Emma is beautiful in every sense of the word.

Killian jolts upwards, arching his back when she presses the cold ice cube to his crotch.

"Fuck, love," he blurts out as she rubs it along his confined length.

The ice water soaks through the cloth and trickles down his heated flesh. Emma continues to rub the ice cube on his cock until the water is fully melted. All throughout, Killian breathes through his nose and tries to keep from going mad.

Before this moment, he would say that having ice on his cock would only serve to turn him off, but with Emma's warmth pressed against him, it only makes him grow harder.

Emma does an about-face, crawling up his body. She kisses his cheek, his nose, and the corner of his mouth gently before disappearing back up the bed.

She leans over him, and he stares at her mouth. From his position, it takes him a moment to realize that there is a dirty curl to Emma's lips as she opens her mouth and devours his. The kiss is wet, messy and Emma's tongue trails along his before her teeth bites down, hard enough to bleed. Where the kiss was sweet before, it is tinged copper now, brings to mind blood pumping through veins, hearts trying to beat their way out of chests - for a moment, he thinks, _her heart beats the same as mine_.

"Still thirsty?" Emma asks when she pulls away.

Killian nods. His throat feels tight, and he knows any words he might say will be hoarse.

A shadow passes over his face as Emma straddles his head.

"Lick," she says, crouching over him.

"Happy to oblige," he says, because how can he not speak now when Emma's wet cunt is pressing against his lips, dripping over his tongue.

He darts his tongue inside her cunt and licks along the line leading to her clit. Emma gasps, legs trembling already.

"Your taste is so sweet, like honey on my tongue," Killian breathes into her cunt.

He remembers what he liked when he was a woman and ghosts his breath over her clit until she is squirming above him. His tongue dips back in between her folds, fucking into her cunt. She is hot - his _kindred spirit_, he thinks, amused, for he is as well, his cock straining against his pants, an ache that he can't relieve.

He thrusts his hips off the bed, seeking friction even as he twists his tongue inside her cunt. When he licks back up to her clit, stopping momentarily to graze his teeth along her pussy lips, Emma whines, pressing down onto his face and dripping liquid over his chin that clings to his scruff. It is messy and absolutely wonderful, and he wants to taste her forever.

Emma pulls away from him then. He groans, feeling bereft, but then she returns with ice cube in hand, the cold water seeping through her fingers.

"Open up," she says and when he does she places the ice cube in his mouth.

"Bite down," she says, and secures the ice cube between his teeth. The cold stings his teeth, but then she is sitting on his face again.

"I want you to -"

He surges forward, trailing the ice cube over her clit, and she actually screams - from shock, from arousal, he isn't sure which. Her breath comes out in heavy gasps as he continues to press the ice cube to her clit and rub it in circles over the sensitive bulb.

A moan leaves her mouth when the ice melts completely and he returns to licking her cunt. Her clit is cool now, and that just isn't right, so Killian settles down to warming it up. He laves it with his tongue, long and slow licks that traces the whole of her clit, the hood and the tiny beaded head. It doesn't take long before he is rewarded for his efforts with a gush of fluid, Emma's release leaking over his face. She doesn't cry out as she comes, just shudders and collapses to the pillows above him.

Without having the focus of getting Emma off to distract him, Killian becomes painfully aware of just how hard he still is. He wants -

He wants a lot of things, and as Emma moves down so that she is laying over him, staring into his eyes, he realizes that all those things boil down to only one thing: he wants her. He wants her with her hair mussed like it is now, lipstick smeared across her mouth, and with starlight in her eyes. He wants her when she is kicking his ass across the room. He wants her however he can have her, and he wants her when he can't even have her at all.

"Emma," he says, as her hand reaches down to stroke him through his pants.

"You've been so good," she murmurs as she kisses him across his cheek and licks her release away. "So good."

"Emma," he says again, trying to get her to understand.

"I know," she says as she unbuckles his belt. "You don't have to say it."

"No, I do," he stresses. He gasps when her hand reaches into his pants to palm his length. With stuttering gasps, he says, "I _need_ to say it."

"Not now," she says. Their eyes meet again and Killian suddenly understands.

"Later, then," he says and then he doesn't say anything at all as she slides down his body to take his cock in both hands.

She pulls his cock out of his pants so that she can jerk him slowly. She makes a twisting motion when she reaches the tip that has him moaning. Pre-cum leaks over her fingers, and he feels the flames blazing again.

"You make me burn," he says as he comes, and he can swear he hears her say, "I love you, too."


	8. baby take your time now

**title: **baby take your time now (there's no need to rush)

**summary: **Killian likes to watch her strip down; sometimes that is just enough - and sometimes they both need a little more

**notes: **another one from Killian's pov; hope you enjoy the shift in perspective!

* * *

Killian has been many places, has seen many things.

He has never seen anything as stunningly graceful as Emma Swan walking towards him like a lioness on the hunt.

Wearing a black button down top, a long skirt, and black heels that he just manages to catch glimpses of as she moves, the sight of her makes his pants tighten. She stops her careful steps towards him and runs her fingers down the open v of her shirt. It is a sight impossible to look away from; he can see the barest hint of skin on the opened space of her button down, and he wants more.

"Emma, don't tease me," he warns.

Emma laughs and it is one of the dirtiest sounds he has ever heard. "Isn't that the point?" she asks huskily.

He growls. Slowly, she slides her hands down her sides, swaying from left to right in a seductive dance. When her hands reach the hem of her shirt, she pushes it up with her fingers, just enough for him to see white lace. She pushes it back down and then slides her hands lower. She curves her hands around her covered thighs until they're touching the apex.

She moans, low and throaty. Her eyes close, and she bites her bottom lip, as she rubs herself through the layers.

Killian sits forward on the bed, staring at the way her mouth falls open in a silent cry. He shifts his cock in his pants - Emma tests his patience like no woman ever has.

After a moment she moves her hands back up and cups her breasts through her top, massaging them gently. Killian groans when she releases them and brushes her fingers along the line of buttons leading downward. Starting with the top button, she starts to unbutton the shirt, but he doesn't get a chance to see what is hiding underneath because she turns in a semi-circle so that her back is facing him.

"Emma," he warns again.

"My game, my rules," Emma sing-songs.

Killian doesn't move to get up from the edge of the bed because despite his impatience, he wants her to tease him - that is the whole point after all, getting him worked up until he can't take it any longer, seeing just how far past his limits she can push him.

They are quickly approaching the boiling point though, the rough feeling of his pants against his cock doing nothing to diminish his growing arousal.

Her hair is curled today, shiny bouncy curls that fall down her back. Her hair is long normally, but it looks fuller now, like a golden net that he could get caught in.

She turns her head to look at him, a smile curving her painted red lips. She blinks, long eyelashes falling across her cheeks.

Emma starts swaying again as she shimmies out of her shirt. The first thing he sees are the white stripes of her top, but then he notices the white bow tying everything together, and he swallows, mouth suddenly dry as he imagines what he'll see from the front. Those fantasies are forgotten when she drops the skirt and carefully steps out of it before kicking it to the side.

Slowly, she turns to face him. He swallows again, doesn't blink as he devours the sight of Emma in a lacy and mesh number that accentuates all her curves in ways that would make his jaw drop if he wasn't working so hard at keeping control over himself.

The top is white with black trimmings and it has a peek right under her breasts. It continues down, plain white, until it becomes sheer with black trimmings obscuring the toned skin underneath. That doesn't bother him though because it continues on to a white garter holding up a pair of sheer white socks.

Emma looks like sex on heels.

She slides her hands down the sides of her body, before cupping her breasts again. When she lifts them this time, her dark pink nipples peek out over the white fabric.

She leans her head down, lifts her breast higher, and licks the skin just above her nipple.

"Fucking hell, lass," Killian swears like he is swearing fealty to her.

Emma does the same with the other breast until he can see the wetness clinging to her skin. She releases her breasts, pushes them together with the palms of her hands as she moves her hands lower. This time, she spreads her legs wide, and fingers her clit through the cloth covering her cunt.

At first, Killian thinks the material is also sheer, but then he realizes that it is Emma who has made the fabric sheer, her juices saturating the material.

He grips the sheets in his hand in mockery of what he'd like to do to her, grip her tight and fuck her forever.

When she lets out a gasp like she is close, Killian can't stand it any longer and stands up from the bed. Emma's eyes meet his_,_ need meeting need.

Still in her black heels, she runs and tackles him to the floor, but he is the one that gets her on her hands and knees. Seated behind her on his knees as well, Killian tears the lace away from her sex with a wrenching noise.

Emma gasps, curses, "You asshole, that was expensive," but she is soaking wet when his finger brushes her cunt, and she seems to forget his crime against her clothing in favour of bucking against his searching fingers.

He pushes two fingers into her without any prep, and Emma keens, backing down farther onto the invading appendages.

"You like that, don't you?" he says hotly.

He leans forward, kisses the curve of her ass while he curls his fingers in her, stroking her walls. When she lets out another moan, he bites down into the soft flesh, leaving red teeth marks in her skin. That drives her crazy; she throws her head back to look at him, hair falling across her shoulders and says in one angry breath, "Fuck me already."

"Turnabout's fair play," he tsks, and pulls his fingers out of her slowly, only to thrust them back in, fucking her with them.

She whines, "_Killian_."

Killian freezes - it is the first time she has ever said his real name during sex. He savours the moment, the victory, before he pulls his fingers all the way out. He fumbles with his belt while Emma keeps up a mantra of "Fuck me, Fuck me now."

When his cock is finally free, he sits up straighter, lining himself up with her cunt, and slamming home. Her body tries to reject him at first, fluttering around him tightly, but then she welcomes him, closing in around him. Her cunt feels like magma, burning hot.

Killian pulls out and thrusts back in short, fast strokes that have Emma making wordless cries. She arches her back, and he leans over her to place kisses against the sheer fabric still covering it. She is still mostly clothed, if what she is wearing could even count as clothes, and he loves it, loves fucking her like this, loves the way she moans each time he pulls out, loves the way she screams when he pushes back in.

His thrusts become sloppy, and he falls out once, twice, Emma's slippery cunt making it hard to stay focused. When she throws her head back again, his _real_ name falling from her lips and her cunt tensing around him in rhythmic spasms, Killian uses his prosthetic hand to pull her back against him so he falls back on his knees and she falls into his lap.

"Ride me, I want you to bounce on my cock," he says.

"I - Killian," she says, the rest of the words obscured by heavy moans. She places her heeled feet on either side of his legs with some difficulty, and then rocks up and down. She rolls her hips, and that makes him call out her name. He is so close. He pulls by her hair, turns her head so that she is facing him, and kisses her hungrily. He searches her mouth with his tongue; she tastes like candy, sweeter than sugar.

When he pulls away, Emma resumes her rocking motions. Her legs strain around him, trembling and it isn't the first time that he has realized just what kind of effect he has on her, but seeing it this time, the combination of that and her calling out his name - he comes so hard he sees white lights flash in his eyes.

His knees ache when he lifts her off of him, but it is the good kind of soreness. He unfolds his body, and turns to Emma who, on her knees again, is trailing her finger through her cunt. He watches her as his come spills from between her thighs, and his cock twitches when she trails that seed along her stomach before lifting her finger to her mouth and sucking it clean.

"Damn it, Emma," he says, and pulls her back against him again.


	9. with a taste of poison paradise

**title: **with a taste of poison paradise

**summary: **"Have you ever tried chocolate syrup?" _What a loaded question_.

**notes; **food play; strawberries and whipped cream and honey and chocolate syrup; and another one from Killian's POV

* * *

She sucks the chocolate sauce off his finger and licks his finger in circles, careful not to miss a drop. When she pulls away with a satisfied smirk on her face, Killian pushes her forward on the bed so that she is laying on her back and he is seated beside her on the edge.

Turning away from the lovely sight of Emma's bared form - hair splayed across the pillows like golden waves, sea green eyes winking at him mischievously - Killian considers his options.

Not for the first time since he has been in Storybrooke, he went shopping, but it was his first time going with Emma. By himself, he'd only ever bought the essentials, but Emma had sidled up beside him, eyebrows waggling, and whispered in his ear, low enough that only he heard, "Have you ever tried chocolate syrup?" He'd known exactly what she meant by the breathless way she spoke, the way she bit her lip _oh so_ seductively afterward, the bloody minx. He'd stared at her for a moment afterward, contemplating, because in all the lands he'd been to before this one, chocolate and other sweets were a commodity, a treasure to be enjoyed on only the most special of occasions. But she'd plucked the bottle of Hershey's Chocolate syrup off the store shelf like it was nothing.

To her it is nothing, but to him he still sees it as a treasure to be saved for special occasions, and what occasion is more special than this with Emma laying out on his bed, open and waiting for him.

He picks up the chocolate syrup, considering Emma again. Killian was never an artist - didn't have the eye for it, Milah liked to tease - but he knows how to appreciate a beautiful work of art, and right now he'll appreciate Emma a lot more covered in chocolate in all the right places.

He aims and squeezes, trailing a line of chocolate along Emma's collarbone. She shifts her shoulders, as it starts to drip down into the small crevice. Killian leans forward and licks the chocolate away in long, sure strokes of his tongue that have Emma shifting beneath him restlessly. He smiles into her skin, and pulls back only to be met with a saucy grin of Emma's own. Her grin turns into a pout when he just stares at her, taking in the sight of her naked form. Her pebbled nipples draw his gaze and he looks to the other delicacies that Emma had thrown into the shopping cart with a wicked smile.

He grabs the bottle of whipped cream. He has to read the bottle to figure out how to use it, and when it comes out over his fingers before he is ready, Emma giggles lightly.

Killian smears his whipped cream covered fingers over Emma's mouth to silence her, and then licks the cream away. Emma's tongue darts out of her mouth to meet his, licking away the last traces of cream from her mouth.

"Yum," she says in a husky whisper.

He stares down at her, mouths inches apart. He wants to kiss her again, to smear more cream over her lips and watch her lick it clean, but he feels the hard nipples beneath him just begging to be touched, and Killian is only happy to oblige.

He grabs the canister of whipped cream again, and traces the sharpened tip over Emma's right nipple. Her breath hitches, her nails digging into her thighs when he lets the cream run out over her nipple and down the sides of her breast. He stares at it for a moment, admiring the way the cream starts to melt against her skin, pink nipples peeking through the white cream.

It is a delicious sight, one Killian would love to devour, but something niggles at the back of his mind, a deeply buried artist's pride that says that the picture just isn't complete yet.

He turns back to his options and then grabs the bottle of honey. He squeezes it out over the whipped cream, the white and gold mixing together, making Emma's already beautiful skin shine. When he is done, Killian sits back and admires his creation as Emma's chest heaves. _Perfect._

His eyes linger on the sight for a moment longer before he zooms out, taking in the whole picture. Emma stares up at him, and there is a pure _want_ written in her gaze that Killian has long since learned to identify. He splays his hand out across her stomach, feeling each heavy breath she lets out. Finally, he slides his index finger upward, drawing it across her coated breast. He plays in the mixture, smearing it all around until her breast is fully covered in honey and cream, and then leans down and licks just under the curve of her breast where it has pooled into a sticky mess.

He licks in circles, cleaning her skin even as more of it drips down the peaks of her breasts like a sugared waterfall. She tastes delicious, a little sweet with a hint of bitterness, and a taste that is Emma and Emma alone.

When he has reached her nipple, he sucks it into his mouth, licking it lavishly until Emma starts to mewl plaintively. He scrapes the edge of his teeth against the crest, leaves her panting as he pulls away.

"Hungry?" he asks her, his voice rough.

Her eyes trail along his naked body to his growing erection and she smiles as she nods, "Very."

Killian moves away from the bed long enough to grab the bowl of strawberries from the end table. The strawberries are on ice so they're cold when he presses the tip to Emma's left nipple. The nipple hardens again as Emma gasps from the cold. He knows how much she likes the cold so he drops a piece of ice to the center of her stomach for good measure, just to watch her squirm as the ice turns to water on her heated belly.

He leads the cut strawberry into the dip between her breasts, before pulling it to his mouth. He takes a bite out of it, sugared juices running down the corner of his mouth. He chews thoughtfully, considering her again. There is a light sheen of sweat covering her skin now. Her body is tense, poised to strike, as dangerous as a snake in the grass. She knows what will happen if she does though. He is in charge tonight and if she does anything to challenge his position, he'll leave. It is that threat hovering over her that keeps her hands at her sides, he knows, and it is the promise of something better if she obeys that makes her chest heave in such a distracting manner.

He swallows the rest of the strawberry and then grabs another. He tugs Emma's nipple with his empty hand, making her breast bounce. She lets out a small sound, clenching her legs together. He can't see the wetness clinging to her cunt, but he knows it is there. He grins. His cock is even harder now, and he is tempted to rub the tip against her lips, make her taste him as well. He dashes the thought, pushes the strawberry in his hand to her lips and grabs the bottle of chocolate syrup. With the strawberry pressed against her lips, he drizzles chocolate syrup over it.

"Eat," he says.

Emma opens her mouth and eats the strawberry whole, her teeth grazing against his fingers. She sticks her tongue out to clean the sides of her mouth, but the chocolate trickles down her neck, out of reach.

He drops the bottle of chocolate syrup and presses his hands down on the bed to either side of her. His cock rubs against her knee as his tongue follows the path of the chocolate syrup down her neck. Breathy pants escape Emma's mouth, and she shifts a little so that there is now a pressure on his cock. It is just enough to make precum slip from the tip, the wetness smudged across the tip and her knee. It is too much, he doesn't want this, not yet. He isn't seeking his pleasure right now. All he wants is to have her fall to pieces beneath him.

And he knows just how to do it.

He pulls away, his hard cock bobbing between his legs as he reaches for the canister of whipped cream. When he returns he presses the canister to her stomach.

"Spread your legs, love," he tells her as he skims the canister over her stomach in circles.

Emma stares up at him and swallows sharply. When she has spread her legs, he moves so that her legs are wrapped around his shoulders, and her cunt is bared before him. His eyes focus in on the tiny bundle of nerves hiding just beneath the curly hairs. He moves the hooded skin of her clit up with one hand. With the other, he presses the tip of the canister to Emma's clit, and pushes down on the tip until she is covered in whipped cream.

Killian throws the canister to the side, hears it crash against the floor, but doesn't care because the whipped cream is liquefying on his tongue already, and Emma's clit is revealed to him. He swallows the last of the cream away, sucking on her tender bud lightly. She moans out an "oh" that is cut off by a squeal of pleasure as he traces her clit with his teeth before moving lower.

He devours her cunt with his tongue, licking over her folds before dipping between them to taste the flowing juices. If he'd thought that the whipped cream, honey, and chocolate had tasted good, this tasted even better, sweeter than any manufactured sugar. And as if that isn't enough, Emma she bucks up against him, thrusting into his face as he thrusts his tongue into her wet, dripping hole.

Killian licks all the way up, to her pink bud, and then all the way back down, spreading liquid all over her cunt. Her juices are smeared across his face, he inhales her sweet scent before diving back in. Wet, sloppy sounds echo in the room as he works her over. It isn't long before the rush of fluid increases as Emma's legs tighten around his shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bruise. She doesn't say a word as she comes, and Killian imagines the cries are trapped in her throat.

He rubs his cock against the bed, needing friction as he laps at her folds, leading Emma toward her second orgasm. The soft fabric against his cock isn't enough, but it'll have to do for now, because what he needs right now is Emma's taste, melting on his tongue. He is a man dying of thirst, and she is the waterfall.

This time, when Emma comes, she screams. Killian slides a finger into her cunt, feels her walls contracting around him and thrusts his hips into the bed, desperation making him lose all self control. Need pools in his belly, he can feel his orgasm building in his balls, pressure simmering in the base of his cock.

He slides another finger into Emma's cunt until he is fucking her with two fingers, gentle strokes that work her open. He continues to lick her all over. She clenches around him when his tongue stabs against her clit, whimpers and moans as he tastes her greedily. She says his name, says something else so quickly and so breathlessly that he doesn't understand it.

Her third orgasm tears through her and is the final straw for Killian. Satisfied with how Emma trembles around him, he pulls his fingers out of her, sits up, and wraps the soaking wet fingers around his cock. He looks down at his handiwork, Emma's closed eyes, her mouth open in a silent cry. Again he considers just moving forward and sticking his cock into her mouth, having that wet heat surrounding him.

The image makes his cock throb, but he waits because he wants her to see him, _wants_ her covered in him.

He holds his hand around the base and when Emma's eyes open again, he watches her as he strokes his cock in quick motions until he is coming all over her stomach and breasts, some of his cum even shooting over her chin.

With unsteady hands she trails her fingers through the mess. He loves watching her taste his seed; there is just something so sexy about the way she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks his release off her fingers.

"Better than chocolate," she says.

Killian takes in the whole picture, Emma's wet fingers still pressed to her lips, his come drying on her skin.

"Agreed."


	10. turn me on with your electric feel

**title:** turn me on with your electric feel

**summary: **Killian sees something that belongs to him, and he wants it back

**notes: **well, I wrote something that isn't entirely smut and I'm actually really happy with it. Another one from Killian's POV, set before "with a taste of poison paradise"

* * *

"Give me what belongs to me," Killian says calmly.

Rumplestiltskin doesn't even raise an eyebrow. "I knew you'd be coming for it. Are you ready to deal?"

"No deals," Killian's voice raises in anger. Rumplestiltskin looks at him in faint amusement, but Killian doesn't care that he thinks that Killian's request is amusing. All he cares about is getting what he came here for. "Give me back my hand."

"And what are you going to do if I don't?" Rumplestiltskin says icily, all humour gone as he clutches his cane to him in a clear threat.

Killian stares at him, nostrils flaring in anger, and just as he is considering his next move, the doorbell rings. He turns to glare at the newcomer only to drop the expression altogether as he sees Emma standing in the doorway.

"I followed you," Emma says.

Killian nods. He had thought that she was sleeping when he left her on his ship, but he isn't surprised to see that she'd fooled him. _You'd make a hell of a pirate_, he'd once told her and she just kept proving that to him time and time again.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, hands on her hips, brows furrowed in disapproval.

"He has something of mine, and I want it back," Killian says.

He'd wanted - he didn't know what he wanted, to surprise her? To just give himself time to get used to it before he returned to her? It feels odd, now that she is here, demanding to have his hand returned to him, and he doesn't know why.

"He wants me to reattach his hand, and I'm not in the business of giving away things for free," Rumplestiltskin says, drawing Killian's attention back to him.

"You, however..." he continues. Killian growls low in his throat; he could strangle the man for those unspoken words alone. But then Rumplestiltskin says, "I'll make you a deal. If _Emma_ can reattach it, then you can have your hand back."

Killian is about to argue again, but then Emma says, "Done."

Killian forgets any words he might say as Emma moves past him towards the back. Killian follows her as Rumplestiltskin takes out Killian's hand from the display case and hands it over to Emma. Emma doesn't flinch, not that Killian would expect her to, but even Emma has limits and he is sure that dealing with severed body parts is probably one of them. But she takes his hand anyway, and walks over to Killian.

"Hook," she says.

At first, Killian thinks she is calling him by his name, but she cocks her head at his hand and he gets the picture. He ignores Rumplestiltskin's gaze as he removes his jacket and shirt and pulls apart the straps holding his hook to his hand. When he is free with clothes readjusted, he feels bereft until Emma touches his hand to his stub.

His eyes meet hers. She takes a deep breath.

"Remember what I taught you, dearie."

A dull flame starts to burn at the base of his stub, like the pain he'd felt when it was first severed. The pain ripens and then moments later, he is staring at his hand. He can feel his hand. He tells his fingers to move and they actually do. He closes his hand in a fist, releases it, and then looks to Emma with his mouth hanging open, unsure of what to say.

Emma's fingers thread through his own, and all he can see, all he can feel is her, the beautiful, wonderful woman who'd given him back something he'd thought he never would get back.

"Come on," she says with a smile. She shifts her attention to Rumplestiltskin, a frown covering her features as she says, "Try that again, and you'll be the one needing to have his hand put back on."

"Point taken, dearie," he says.

The whole exchange is a fog to Killian, background noise as he focuses on the way Emma's fingers feel wrapped around his. Her hand is warm and soft, nails gently scraping against the back of his hand. He rubs his thumb in circles along the space between her thumb and her index finger, is amazed by the way her skin moves beneath him.

For years he felt phantom movements, felt as if he had actually gripped something with his hand only to remember that it was gone - just like Milah, just like everything he'd ever loved. But now, the proof of its return is right here, in the way Emma squeezes his hand in hers as she leads him out of the shop and along the path to her apartment.

He can feel her, she can feel him, and suddenly his chest feels tight. He swallows, but the tight feeling doesn't pass and he is astute enough to realize that he is having an emotional crisis. As much as he had wanted his hand back, now that he has it, now that he can touch and _feel_, the life that he has clung to for so many years is over. He was a ship out in the water, anchored down by his past and his revenge and now that anchor has been cut loose and Killian feels a little lost at sea.

It takes him a moment to realize that they've stopped and Emma is fumbling in her pocket for her keys.

"You can let go," he says.

Emma looks up at him, and then she leads her gaze to their conjoined hands. She wiggles her fingers and says, "No, I think I'd rather stay like this."

Killian swallows his gratefulness down. He may spin words to suit his needs, but he has always been more of a man of action, so he squeezes Emma's hand and rubs the pad of his thumb along the line of her index finger, a thank you said only in touch.

They finally make it into the apartment, and Emma leads Killian through to her bedroom where she pulls him down on the bed so that they are both sitting on the edge of the soft comforter.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Emma asks when a long moment of silence passes between them.

"No," he says softly.

Killian crooks his knee beneath him and turns to face Emma. Slowly, he pulls his hand away from her hand, but it isn't long before he is touching her again. He runs his fingers through the hair. The strands are soft beneath his fingers, just like her hands. He touches her forehead, runs his fingers across her brow, over her now closed eyelids and her nose before he brings his hand to her lips.

Before he realizes it, Emma has grabbed his hand. She turns his hands over, kissing each knuckle in turn.

"What did Rumplestiltskin mean when he told you to remember what he taught you?" Killian asks.

Emma doesn't release his hand, but she does bring it away from her lips so she can say, "Magic is about emotion. He taught me that I have to tap into that, I have to ask myself, 'why am I doing this?'"

The next question is harder than the first, but Killian needs to know. "And why did you do it?"

"For you," Emma says simply.

Killian grins, the smile that only she had been able to bring to his face since Milah's death and Baelfire's abandonment.

He leans forward, pulls his hand away from her so that he can cup both her cheeks as he kisses her. The kiss is slow, unhurried. They pull back for air, only to return. Emma's lips part beneath his as he rubs his thumbs in circles on her cheek. She tastes of heaven and feels like clouds. He slips his tongue inside her mouth, darting around hers in a dance that is as old as time.

Emma's eyes are closed but Killian's are open because he doesn't want to miss a second of this. It is a dream he doesn't want to wake up from, but if he has to, he wants the memory of it burned into his eyes. Emma's face is flushed and she fists his shirt in her hands, clutching him to her. Like he'd try to move away - he couldn't stop touching her now if his life depended on it because the only thing keeping him afloat is the feeling of her skin beneath his palm.

"Killian," she whines when they break for air.

The sound goes right through him, and he realizes that he is hard, achingly so. He pulls his right hand from her face to cup himself through his pants, but doesn't stop stroking her cheek with his left hand.

Her hands release his shirt and she pushes his hands away. She goes for his belt, unfastens his pants and helps him pull free of his confines.

She starts to stroke his cock with her hand, but Killian is the one to push her away this time.

"I need to -" he says, taking his swollen length in his left hand. He pulls back only for long enough to lick his palm, to taste the salt of his sweating skin, and then continues stroking into his fist. It is rough, not nearly enough lube to make the action smooth, but he doesn't care because it is like touching himself for the first time, stars dancing across his vision as his hand, _his hand_ grips him tight and leads him to completion.

"It just doesn't feel real," he whispers hoarsely as Emma's hand wraps around his, encircling his cock as well.

"It's real," Emma says, stroking his hand and his cock tenderly, her fingers brushing the head in time with his own thrusts. "It's real."

He lets out a gasping breath as he comes all over Emma's hand and his own.

"It's real," he echoes, and falls into her embrace.


	11. you're dangerous

**title: **You're Dangerous (I'm Loving It)

**summary: **and then there were two; Emma is trying out her magic in the bedroom when suddenly everything goes wrong, or totally right depending on how you're looking at it, and Emma's looking at it, and looking at it, and -

**notes: **_1, 2, 3, not only you and me_ aka double Killian's, double the fun! rough sex and knife play and everything in between

* * *

A shot of warmth directly into Killian's bloodstream, and Emma hovers over him, golden light that still amazes him every time he sees it shooting from her hands.

"Feels good," he says, laughing because Emma's forehead is creased in the cutest of frown lines, her nose wrinkled and lips squished together as she focuses on wielding her magic.

"I'm gonna -"

The golden light shimmers before him, before exploding outward. The warmth under his skin begins to burn then, and Killian feels like his blood is about to boil out of his skin and it _hurts_, and not in the good way, the pain tearing its way through his skin and then through heavy, pain filled eyes he sees Emma's eyes widen into saucers.

"What the actual fuck?"

* * *

Emma jumps up from the bed, backing away as she stares at the two..._two_ Killian's laying before her. A loud thump echoes across the room as Killian pushes _Killian_ off the bed, jumping away.

"Fucking hell," they both say at the same time, staring at each other.

They have the same features, Emma knows, because about five minutes of silence pass as she just looks them over while they look each other over. They stand there, tense and gloriously naked, and Emma should be more freaked out by this because instead of turning Killian on, she'd managed to make two of him; it had only been a passing thought, a barely formed image, but it had latched on and now not only does she have no idea what to do with him - _them_ - but she knows exactly what she _wants_ to do with them.

As if sensing her thoughts, they both turn to her at the same time, right eyebrows raised and lips curled up in a smile.

"Emma, love," the Killian on the right starts.

"No," Emma says to both them and herself. "Let me fix this."

"Later," the Killian on the left says before walking to her.

Emma's breath hitches when he pulls her so that her back is flush against his torso. His hands encircle her waist, fingers trailing over her naked skin. He holds her tight in a way that puts her on edge, and her body hums with anticipation.

She can't focus on him though because the other Killian is considering her with a look that makes her want to hide. She feels stripped to the bone, more naked than she already is, and he just keeps giving her that look like he'd like to climb inside her skin.

She kinda wants him to.

Emma bites her lip when the Killian holding her to him pinches the skin of her stomach. She closes her eyes as he pulls her harder against him. So close to him, she feels his cock pulsing against her, hard and wanting. When he plants the first wet kiss on her throat, she lets out a low moan. His head snuggles in the crook of her neck as he lays heated kisses along her skin, sucking and biting into the delicate flesh. She feels pleasure bloom between her thighs as he worries the skin with his teeth.

"Killian," she gasps.

"Not Killian," he says roughly, pulling away. He twists her so that she is facing him, and grabbing her arms roughly, he says, "The name is Hook."

Need courses through her, turning her to liquid, because this is exactly what she'd imagined: two Killian's, - one Hook, one Killian - his personality split.

Hands encircle her waist again as Hook releases her arms. Killian brushes her hair behind her ear, bites down on her shoulder gently. His fingers trail through the hair of her sex, just brushing her clit. Emma moans. She was wet before, from using her magic to turn Killian on, but this is nothing like that. Now she is dripping, a mess of liquids seeping from between her legs.

She yelps when Killian picks her up and carries her to the bed. He lays her down on her stomach. He smacks her ass, and she yelps again before he shifts her onto her back.

When she looks up, Killian isn't looking at her. Emma follows the line of his gaze and swallows sharply, eyes widening as she sees Hook standing by the other side of the bed, hook in hand.

"You kept it," she murmurs.

"It still has its uses," Hook says, staring at her heatedly. Emma can feel wetness pooling on the bed beneath her.

"Yeah," she says as he kneels beside the bed so that he is level with her.

Hook trails the tip of the hook down her cheek until he reaches her lips. He presses against them insistently. Emma opens her mouth and bites down on the cold metal. She doesn't break eye contact with Hook as she sucks on the tip like she would his cock. She opens her mouth to lick along the steel, brushes her tongue hard enough against the tip that it breaks and the blood flows, bitter copper in her mouth.

"Open," Hook says, and Emma obeys, lets him remove the steel from her mouth.

She blinks, just for a moment, and when she opens her eyes, their faces are inches apart, and then they're kissing. Hook's tongue plunders her mouth. He presses his tongue to the cut on hers, and pulls her tongue into his mouth so he can suck the last of the blood away.

He draws away from her, and Emma lets out a whine of displeasure. The hook runs down between her breasts, Hook leading it towards her stomach. Killian moves into the space Hook occupied only moments before and presses his lips to Emma's in a frenzied kiss.

It is a dangerous game that they're playing, with Hook running the sharp steel down on her stomach and Killian kissing her like she is the very air he needs to breathe. Every gasping breath leaves the tip of his hook pressing harder into her skin, until she moves, a desperate motion that makes it cut into her skin. The sharp sting is almost unbearable; she craves more, more of that pain tinged pleasure, so she moves again, makes him cut a line down her stomach. It hurts, god, does it hurt, and it is probably going to leave a mark, but it is that pain and that likelihood that makes Emma arch off the bed, desperate need searing through her like a wave of fire.

She fists the air when the hook is pulled away. Hook captures her knees in a bruising grip, prying her legs apart. As he moves between them, she pulls away from Killian's burning kiss. Killian smoothes his hand across her cheek gently while Hook works two fingers into her wet cunt in a rough twisting motion that makes Emma keen, stretching her fingers out. Her clit throbs, needing attention, but Hook doesn't give it to her.

Killian moves over her, angling lower so that his mouth brushes her right nipple. His hand is still on her cheek as he takes it nipple in between his teeth, nipping at the pebbled flesh. He licks around the areola, before sucking hard on the nipple. The pressure is so good, and between that and Hook curling his fingers inside her, she feels her orgasm approaching rapidly. Killian bites down on the nipple hard, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that Emma feels it, pain shooting through her, echoing the sharp sting Hook's steel had caused.

When Killian's tongue licks down the line Hook had cut into her skin, she comes around Hook's fingers without either them ever having touched her clit.

Hook removes his fingers from her cunt while her body is still fluttering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. He licks her juices off his fingers with a feral smirk. Hook mounts her and pulls her hips up so he can get the right angle to thrust into her. He doesn't give her a chance to get used to his length, just slams all the way in.

Emma cries out as Killian pulls away from the wound. He nips playfully at her left breast, but doesn't give it as much attention as he gave the right. Emma doesn't have a chance to contemplate why before he is climbing onto the bed as well. The bed dips under his weight as he straddles her face. His cock slaps across her cheek and smears pre-cum on her skin. Emma licks out, tasting the tip.

"Open up, love," Killian says.

Emma opens her mouth as he guides his hard length into her mouth. Her heels dig into Hook's ass as he strokes in and out of her, driving in with such a force that even if her lips weren't wrapped around the fat head of Killian's cock, she still wouldn't be able to breathe. She places her hands against Killian's thighs, just for something to hold onto. She stares into the dark hair surrounding Killian's cock as he pulls his cock gently out of her mouth, before thrusting back in. Killian and Hook have a rhythm set up - when Killian pulls out, Hook pushes in, and vice-versa, and Emma feels everything falling to pieces around her. Killian's too gentle, Hook's too rough...She can't focus, can't do anything except take each of Hook's brutal thrusts, her mind clouded as Killian's tastes grows stronger in her mouth.

And then everything changes. She doesn't get a chance to get used to either of the feelings because Killian grabs her hair, tugging her forward until her lips close around the base of his cock, her throat contracting around his length. He holds her there for long moments, and it is only Emma's experience that keeps her from choking around the thick cock. As it is, when he releases her, she takes in large gulps of air and glares up at him.

Killian looks so incredibly smug that Emma is about to curse him when she is taken off guard again as Hook slows his thrusts, stretching her inch by inch until he is seated all the way inside her. He pulls out of her just as slowly. Emma whines, a desperate sound that before all this, before _Captain Hook and Killian Jones_, she would've been ashamed of. Now, the sound of her own arousal, just adds fuel to the fire.

She scratches at Killian's thighs, leaving red marks in the skin. Killian's fingers stroke along her lips, parting them. Emma opens her mouth, takes him back in. The head of his cock brushes against her throat, but he settles for short thrusts instead of pushing his way into her throat again. Emma doesn't want that, she needs the mix of gentle and rough, that's why she -

_Oh_.

That's why she made him two. Because she needed the rough and the gentle at the same time. She needed Hook to fuck her like a freight train, and she needed Killian to stroke her cheek with his fingers, smile at her and allow her to set the pace.

He is smiling at her now, she realizes when she looks up and so she releases his thighs and reaches up to cup his balls. She tugs at them gently, rolling them in her hands. That elicits a groan from him. He slaps her hands away after a moment, and then forces his cock back into her mouth. This time, he doesn't stop when he reaches her throat, just pushes inside until her nose is buried in his dark hairs.

"Gods," Killian says. "Your throat feels amazing, Emma."

"You have the wettest, tightest cunt," Hook says as Killian pulls out, cock pressed just against her lips. Hook thrusts back into her. Her clit throbs again. His words make the warmth spread from her belly, all over her body.

"I love fucking you, Swan. You make the dirtiest sounds, so much desperation every time you say my name," Hook says.

"Say my name," he demands.

"Killian," Emma whines as more pre-cum is smeared over her lips.

Hook thrusts in so hard that Emma sees stars. "Hook," she whimpers.

"There we go," Hook says proudly.

Killian grabs her head again, pushes against her lips until she opens. There is no warning except for a pulsing of his hot length as he spills into her mouth. Emma rushes to swallow, but his release is so explosive that some of it slips out the side of her mouth. When he finally pulls away, Emma gasps, more release falling from her mouth onto the sheets.

"Very messy, Swan," Hook says and he sounds just as pent up as Emma feels. He is close too, and Emma knows she came already, but god, she needs to feel that feeling take her over again, needs to see the fireworks bursting behind her eyes as she shudders around him.

"You're the gentleman, here," Hook says, and Emma thinks that she has misheard him until Killian moves down her body.

When his fingers brush her clit, Emma cries out. She is so sensitive. She moves her hands to her nipples, tugging at the swollen tips while Killian sets up a steady rhythm of rubbing and pinching.

Hook continues to thrust inside her. His movements speed up, but he continues to slam all the way inside and pull almost all the way out.

She realizes that she is begging halfway to her orgasm - she was so lost in the sensation that she didn't notice that she has been whispering their names like a prayer, _Hook, Killian, Hook, Killian_ - two different people, but somehow exactly the same. She screams when her orgasm rocks through her just as Hook rocks into her, spilling his seed into her warmth.

* * *

Later, after Emma has recuperated, after Killian has bandaged her wound and Hook has kissed his way along her body, Emma takes both their hands in hers and makes them one again.

"Well, that was an experience," Killian says when he is himself again.

"Mmmm," Emma agrees, leaning her head on his shoulders.

He turns his head, nudging his nose against her cheek. "Next time -"

"Next time?" Emma says. "Who said there was going to be a next time?"

"Next time," he ignores her. "You can be on top."

Emma melts at the thought.


	12. in the shadows where it's hot

**title: **in the shadows where it's hot

**summary: **They don't have a schedule, they don't make plans, but Killian still expects her there every Thursday anyway

**notes: **voyeurism!

* * *

Emma doesn't come by that evening. They've fallen into a pattern, ever since that first night, of Emma showing up at his ship every Thursday at 10:00 PM like clockwork. So when 11:00 PM and 12:00 AM roll around with no sign of Emma, Killian stretches out his restless muscles and decides to take a walk. That his walk takes him along the familiar path to Emma's apartment is no coincidence. He isn't worried - if it was anything serious, he would've known - but he is curious as to why she decided to break their pattern.

What Emma has called "breaking and entering," Killian calls "checking up on her," so he doesn't feel anything but a sense of disappointment at her easy to open lock when he makes his way into her apartment. He locks the door back behind him, an audible click in the otherwise eerily silent apartment.

It _is_ quiet, but there is a light on in her bedroom so he slowly makes his way towards that. He calls out her name, "Emma! Emma, it's me!" but there is no response from her.

Frowning, Killian stops in her doorway and peeks inside. The sight that awaits him nearly makes him stumble in surprise for Emma is laying across her bed, eyes closed and completely nude. White headphones hang from her ears and muffled music echoes out into the room. She drums her head along to the beat as she drums her bright red painted nails across her bare stomach, making her steady way downward.

He watches as her fingers reach their destination to the trimmed curls between her thighs. She spreads her legs just wide enough that she can slip a hand between them. Lazily, she rolls her clit between her fingers. She dips her fingers lower, wetting them with her own liquids, before pulling them back to her clit.

A soft moan rounds her lips as her skilled fingers work her clit in circles.

"Mmmm," she says, rolling her neck from side to side to the music as she slows the motions on her clit to up and down strokes.

Killian watches her, stunned to silence. Of all the things he'd thought he'd find when he entered Emma's apartment, this - this _glorious_ sight never entered his mind. His cock is already twitching in his pants as he watches her, and even though he knows he is invading her privacy, that he should leave before she catches and throttles him, he can't drag his eyes away or make his feet take the necessary steps out the door.

He always has been a risk taker, and this seems like a risk worth taking.

Killian rubs himself through his pants as he watches Emma's movements speed up again. His keen ears have noticed a pattern - Emma is touching herself to the beat.

His gaze slides over her whole body, drinking in the view. Her lovely pink nipples look particularly inviting today, swollen like she has been playing with them. His pants tighten even more as he imagines that sight, Emma rolling her nipples in her fingers, pinching them hard to make them pucker up. Her mouth open in a gasp of want as wetness starts to drip down her thighs.

He blinks the image away to be replaced with the reality of her fingers parting her sex as she plunges them inside her wet cunt. She starts with just her middle finger at first, fucking herself in a twisting motion while her other fingers continues to flick her clit. Watching the finger disappear inside her breaks his control to pieces. He fumbles with the belt of his jeans, his cock straining against the restricting fabric.

He wants to join her. Seeing her pleasure herself is maddening, the way her breath is starting to hiccup, her chest heaving and nipples pointed towards the sky - truly maddening.

When her right hand moves away from her side to tug at her beaded peaks, Killian has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming in his pants. It is absolutely crazy how she makes him feel - in more ways than one because even as he starts to stroke his cock, he can't help but notice more than just the way she touches herself, but how relaxed she looks, her body free from the tension that he usually sees. It is a pleasant sight, one he is eager to see more often.

When a whine leaves her mouth, almost words, Killian stutters in his movements because it sounded almost like -

"Killian," she says, this time clear enough that he can't mistake it for anything else.

He drags his gaze away from the fingers moving in her cunt to see her staring at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and he comes with his pants around his ankles, shooting over his fist.

When he comes back to himself, Emma is gasping her way through her own orgasm, back arched off the bed and fingers pulled out of her cunt to press against her clit.

Killian realizes after a beat that she he isn't actually dead. It is surprising, considering how quick to anger Emma usually is, and he grows suspicious.

"Emma," he says when she pulls out the headphones. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Emma says with a quirk of her brow. A smirk takes over her face as she says, "And neither am I."

Suspicions confirmed, he says as kicks off his shoes and steps out of his pants, "You were waiting for me."

"Took you long enough," Emma says breathlessly. Her fingers are still on her clit, rubbing in slow circles.

"You're a bloody tease," he says harshly as he discards his shirt as well and joins her at the edge of the bed.

"But you love it," she says as she pulls him down beside her on the bed.

"Aye, I do," he says, staring at her heatedly. He brushes his fingers through her hair, and repeats, "Aye, I do."


	13. give me goose bumps and high fevers

**title: **give me goose bumps and high fevers

**summary: **_you get me closer to god_

**notes: **breath play; for grace who is a terrible person who needs to hurry up and finish her fics

* * *

Not so delicate fingers wrap around his throat as Emma sits in his lap, rocking back and forth on his cock. At first the pressure is light, barely there, but still Killian gasps, his hips faltering mid-thrust into Emma's wet cunt.

"Emma," he groans. "Gods, woman."

Emma's eyes widen, and the pressure around his throat increases. It is just a minimal amount, enough to make it a touch harder to breathe. She doesn't stop moving her hips on him even as his thrusts become faster and sharper.

Her nails scratch his throat lightly as she releases him. His hands tighten on her waist. He pulls her down so that they are chest to chest, her nipples scraping against his chest, hardened peaks still wet from when he'd spent long minutes sucking on them until she was a mewling mess beneath him. They cling to his hair covered chest, and he clings to her.

"Emma, please," he murmurs into her hair because he _needs_ this. Now that she has started, he doesn't want her to stop.

She places her hands on either side of him and sits up on her elbows. Her hair falls across his face, but she flips it out of the way as he continues to thrust into her, slow, deep strokes inside her. When her hand wraps around his throat this time, the pressure is stronger. A choked out moan escapes his mouth as she squeezes.

"Breathe," she says, softly, releasing him.

Her thumb brushes against the hollow of his throat when she flexes again, this time for longer. The loss of oxygen goes straight to his head, his heart beating like a drum in his chest as he gasps desperate and needy. His hands are still holding her waist. Killian clutches her tightly and thrusts into her hard, making her rock backwards. She holds onto his throat like a lifeline, squeezing ever tighter.

The rush of oxygen as his airways open up again when Emma releases him would have brought him to his knees had he been standing. As it is, his cock is rock hard inside Emma and he is quickly approaching his orgasm.

Sweat beads his brow as she places her hand on his throat again, this time only squeezing enough that his breaths are shallow. He is starting to see white dots dancing across his vision now. Killian has always been one to enjoy this, to chase after the place just beyond the high he gets from trying to breathe through the pressure. Despite everything they've done, he'd never imagined that Emma would be able to give this to him, but that was his mistake. Emma has given him her everything and more, why not this as well?

He feels like he is floating. He sees her face through hazy eyes when she closes both hands around his throat. When she tightens her grip, he writhes beneath her, struggling for air. He is drowning, drowning in her, and he doesn't want to break the surface. He wants to fall into her sea and never come out again.

She looses her fingers, lets the air flow back into his lungs. He sucks in loud breaths, realizes his cock is still sliding between her tight inner walls. Her cunt hugs him, and he feels his cock throbbing with his release.

Killian's orgasm hits him hard when she squeezes again, hard enough to bruise. Her nails dig in, breaking the fragile skin, but he doesn't care, too busy riding his high to heights he has never reached before, vision blacking around the edges. He writhes beneath her. When she lets go, they are gasping in time with one another.

Emma leans down, capturing his heavy breaths in her mouth, sucking them in as she continues to ride him. They breathe into one another, and Killian can tell she is drowning too, buried as far beneath the sea as he is. Her walls flutter around his spent cock as her orgasm takes her over. She pants his name against his lips as her arms give out, and she falls against him.

He snuggles his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent.


	14. don't you wanna claim my body

**title: **don't you wanna claim my body like a vandal?

**summary: **_It starts with a playful nip along his collarbone, but Emma forgets that Killian likes to bite back. His teeth tease the skin of her stomach, worrying it until he has left a raw red mark on her skin._

**notes: **marking fic! woot!

* * *

It starts with a playful nip along his collarbone, but Emma forgets that Killian likes to bite back. His teeth tease the skin of her stomach, worrying it until he has left a raw red mark on her skin.

That day they leave it at that, but the next day when Emma is dressing in front of her mirror, the teeth marks are still there, an angry red on her otherwise smooth skin. She runs her fingers along it. It doesn't hurt, not really unless she presses down hard, but the memory of that dull pain as he pulled at the skin - Emma finds her fingers moving further south.

She watches herself in the mirror, the way her fingers travel over her stomach, nails scratching lightly against the puckered skin, and decides she wants more.

She doesn't get it until three days later when she is seated at the station. David is out sick, Snow is teaching, and Henry is at school so she has no one for company. She is about to just transfer all calls to her cell phone and start patrolling the streets just to ease her restlessness when the bell rings.

"Can I help you..." she trails off when she sees who it is.

She can't help the happy smile that breaks across her face when she sees Killian standing there. _Goddamnit, when did I get like this?_ she thinks as the happiness spills out of her in infectious waves.

Killian grins back at her and says, "Aye. I seem to be missing a certain lass, about yea high, blonde hair, gorgeous moss green eyes, and a certain penchant for locking me up. I was hoping you could help me find her."

As he says this, he walks towards her. Emma finds herself standing up from her seat to meet him.

"Well, I'm pretty good at finding people. It's an inherited trait," Emma says.

"Is it now?" he says, but he seems to have lost interest in the conversation. Emma doesn't blame him because now she is looking down at the open v of the tight t-shirt he has opted to wear today at the tease of dark chest hair. He looks good in the form fitting pair of dark blue jeans, and although Emma does sort of miss his pirate wear - it suits him so well - she can definitely appreciate the new look. At the moment, with the familiar heat making its way through her body, she would appreciate it far better with him stripped out of them.

She closes her eyes when he moves closer and devours her mouth in a hungry kiss that almost knocks her off her feet. Mortified, but also completely turned on, Emma leans into the kiss, snaking her tongue around his. His hands move to her top, tugging on the bottom hem of her thin shirt so his thumbs can press into the skin beneath.

"The door, it isn't locked," she says between kisses. She drags her lips away from his long enough to add, "And what if someone calls in?"

He growls. "They can wait."

"Killian," she whines, opening her eyes.

"Fine," he says, pulls away, and stalks across the room to lock the door to the sheriff's station. Emma watches him move, sees the tension in the lines of his shoulders. He is a ball of energy just waiting to explode.

Emma licks her lips in anticipation.

He notices the motion and stops in his approach towards her, following the trail of her tongue with his gaze. When she does it again, he takes quick steps to her. He grabs her face with both hands and attacks her lips again, claiming her in a fiery kiss that is sure to leave her lips feeling bruised later. It is exactly what she wanted when she looked at herself in the mirror and saw his teeth marks on her stomach.

She pulls away from the kiss, grasps his shoulders and trails her lips down the familiar path to his neck. She knows how much he loves it when she sucks on the skin, but this time, she isn't just doing it for pleasure, this time she _needs_ to see her mark on him.

She sucks hard until hickeys form, lingers over his Adam's apple. He gasps quietly while his hands continue to caress her underneath her shirt. When she bites down, he growls and scrapes his blunt nails across her abdomen. Emma moans, releasing his shoulders to tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. He goes with it and allows her to take the shirt off. When she goes for his belt, he slaps her hands away and says, "Not yet. Come."

She follows him readily. She is leaking with want. Only he has ever had this effect on her body. All her other lovers were either too unskilled, too sweet, or too rough, but Killian - _Killian_ is perfect for her. She feels like Goldilocks and the three bears, too cold, too hot - _just right_, and then she brushes the thought away, not wanting to think about the probably real fairytale character, not when he is making himself comfortable in her desk chair, legs spread wide as he pats his lap in invitation.

Emma smirks, but instead of going to sit down, slowly she starts to shimmy out of her own tight faux jeans. She didn't mean to wear her pale green and white lacy underwear today, but she can't say that it isn't a happy accident. She kicks off her short boots and then steps out of her jeans, teasingly sliding the underwear lower as she does so.

"I never get tired of watching you, Emma," Killian says gruffly. Emma meets his gaze, sees the raw want in them and loses her train of thought.

"Yeah," she says, trying to pick her brain up off the floor.

Killian smirks and pats his lap again. "Come along, Swan, we don't have all day."

The reality of what she is doing hits her - the fact that she stripped down in the sheriff's station, about to have sex with her pirate boyfriend at her place of work where she is supposed to be a professional.

"Stop over thinking it," he says, suddenly very close. He picks her up off the ground and then walks backwards until his knees hit the chair. He sinks down into it with Emma on top of him. Seated in his lap with his erection grinding against her cunt, Emma forgets why this is such a bad idea.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders. "There we go," Killian murmurs. His hands slide up under her shirt and push up her bra to fondle the bottom curve of her breasts. Emma resumes kissing his neck. She dips her tongue into the crevice of his throat and nibbles on the skin. When her teeth graze him, he lifts her bra up completely to pinch at her hard nipples. He tugs on them as Emma moans against him, grinding down harder.

"What do you want, Emma?" he manages to get out despite her now frantic sucking on his skin.

She pulls away long enough to say, "God, _please_."

"Killian," he corrects.

His erection presses against her insistently, but Emma can't focus on that as he reaches between them and pushes her underwear to the side and begins to rub her clit in circles. With his other hand, he pushes one finger into her cunt. She is so open for him already, and his finger goes in smoothly.

Emma needs more.

She pulls back to grasp his biceps and dig her nails in. It does the trick because he adds another finger, stretching her wider. It burns deliciously. She squirms in his lap as he lazily strokes his fingers inside her, curving them up to hit that spot that makes her breath hitch. He keeps flicking his fingers against it until she can't breathe from the unbearable pleasure. Emma scratches her nails down his chest. He hisses, rubbing her faster and increasing the pressure. The jolt of pressure is too much for her and she has to wrap her arms around his neck so that she doesn't fall out of the seat as her orgasm hits her like a sudden storm. It takes her up in the air, higher and higher, aftershocks building into another orgasm as his fingers continue to pump in and out of her cunt.

She scratches him again, this time with intent. She runs her nails across his chest to make sure that he knows what he's doing to her, how he makes her feel. She scratches him so he knows who he belongs to.

It is that thought that makes her dive over the edge again. _Mine,_ she thinks deliriously as she rides his fingers, rocking back and forth until she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

He pulls out with a sloppy squelching noise that shouldn't turn Emma on, but it does. She lifts her head from where it has fallen against his neck to find him watching her intently.

"Yours?" he asks, his voice scratchy.

"I -" She doesn't know what to say, the blush blooming red on her skin.

"Show me who I belong to, Emma," Killian says so seriously that Emma has to kiss him to contain the mad happiness that threatens to overcome her.

Remembering his words, she moves her kiss lower. She shimmies out of the chair and onto her knees as she continues her path downward.

When she reaches his cock, she sucks him through his jeans, can taste her own wetness clinging to the fabric.

"Pants down," she commands.

He rushes to comply, fingers deftly removing his belt to tug his tight jeans past his knees. His cock springs free of the confines, and that is enough for Emma.

She kisses hickeys up his thigh. When she reaches the top, she grasps the shaft with both hands and presses the head of his cock to her lips. She kisses it softly, smiling when just that touch has him shifting restlessly in the chair. Slowly she licks along the thick vein along his length, pulling her hands back so she can follow it all the way down. She licks back the way she came. Killian shivers, hands tight on his knees.

Emma takes the fat head of his cock into her mouth and sucks on it tightly, releasing it only when he gasps out her name. Slowly, she bobs back and forth on his cock, taking more of his thick length into her mouth. The head brushes the entrance to her throat, but she doesn't swallow him down, wanting to take it slow.

She hums happily around the head of his cock. One of his hands comes to rest on her head, but Emma knows he isn't going to move her. He'll go wherever she leads.

She presses her tongue against the leaking hole at the tip of his cock, tasting the salt of his release. When she flicks her tongue again and again, he moans lowly. Emma knows he is close by the way his taste fills her mouth.

"Good god, Emma. Yours, I'm all yours," he says hoarsely as Emma takes him into her throat. She swallows around him and then releases him, pulling back so she can breathe. When she has gasped in enough air, she does it again.

"Emma," he moans again and spills his release in her mouth. Emma swallows readily, sucking long after he has grown soft in her mouth.

When she finally pulls away, she stands on less than stable legs and climbs back into his lap.

"I need to get dressed," she says. "Anyone could come in."

"They can wait a little longer," he says. He cocks his head at her, studying her with such a look of wonder, it takes Emma's breath away. "I am yours, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know," Emma says. When he just looks at her, she says, "Really, I just wanted -"

"Wanted what?"

"Oh god, I wanted to stake my claim, alright?" Emma says. His body rumbles with his laughter and Emma shakes her head. "Laugh it up, buddy, but just remember..."

She trails off as he presses his face into her cheek. "I love you, Swan. You're as much mine as I am yours."

She nods and threads her fingers through his. _Mine and yours._


End file.
